Black Pearl: A Captain's Love Revised
by AgnesBriot1969
Summary: I always wondered about why Jack Sparrow is so obsessed by his ship - the "Black Pearl". Maybe it is because she's more to him but just a ship. Full summary inside. Jack/OC and it's time to change the rating for the capters to come...
1. Prologue: 1715 The Hidden Bay

**Revised and extended version of my story "Black Pearl – A Captain's Love"**

_**When I read my first story lately I came to the conclusion that some chapters are missing and that it has a lot of voids. So I decided to revise it, add the missing chaps and rewrite some of the already existing chaps. The original version will remain published so you'll get the chance to compare both versions... **_

_**Hope you'll enjoy it and if you do so feel free to leave a comment – your feedback is the only payment I'll receive...**_

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**I do not own any rights on "Pirates of the Caribbean", its content or its characters (unfortunately) except my OCs and the storylines I invented by myself.**_

* * *

**Summary:**

I always wondered about why Jack Sparrow is so obsessed by his ship - the "Black Pearl". Maybe it is because she's more to him but just a ship...

_Being a boy of fifteen Jack Sparrow takes flight from Shipwreck Island and gets saved by a stranger who takes him aboard his ship and away to a hidden bay. The stranger is Patrick Swallow who chooses the bay as a hideout. There he lives with his partner Rosalind Stevens and her daughter Caithleen. _

_Jack and Caith become inseparable and they fall in love. When they have to leave the isle in a hurry life changes dramatically. They have to make a decision which leads them to London and to an employment with the East India Trading Company. When their ship gets heavily damaged the new leader of the company - Cutler Beckett - makes Jack captain of the fastest vessel that floats: the "Wicked Wench"._

_Then the day comes when Jack discovers that Beckett betrays him and uses him and his ship to sail slaves over to the colonies. Jack and Caith agree to set them free although they know what that could mean for them. When they reach the African shore to face Beckett they have to realize that the head of the East India Trading Company is driven by greed and power. Being hell-bent to get his cargo back Beckett turns Jack's and Caithleen's life into hell on earth and when he decides to take everything he loves away from Jack not only his freedom is meant..._

* * *

**Prologue: 1715 The Hidden Bay**

The island was rather small. It was one amongst hundreds round the Caribbean and it wasn't even marked within the sea charts. Its bearings and coordinates got spread from captain to captain by word-of-mouth recommendation and although its port was rather small as well lots of sailors used to strike their bargains there because of two fundamental reasons:

It still belonged to a shrinking amount of free ports without immense taxes and it still stayed unchallenged from the English – the leading power all around the Caribbean.

So it happened that ships of all kinds sailing under different colors used to call at the isle and its inviting settlement with its taverns, inns and chandlers – not to forget the brothel and its beauties...

Aside the bustling little town, its port and its visitors the island kept a secret which only a few people ever came to know.

On the reverse side of the isle – separated from the town by nearly impenetrable virgin forests, steep cliffs and an insuperable mountain range – lay a picturesque bay surrounded by deep forests and scarps. It was neither directly to spot from the seaside nor was it directly to spot from the countryside. And it lay far enough from the port and the trade route.

A narrow passage separated the hidden bay also from the open ocean and its shallows, currents and hidden reefs meant unpredictable dangers for all those who did not know these perils.

Due to these natural barriers it caused that the little settlement which nestled up against the hillside remained hidden to the curious eyes of the English and the Spaniards as well as of the numerous pirates who searched for secure hideouts within these waters.

* * *

It was early in the morning and still misty after a mild and peaceful night when a ship searched for its way through the narrow passage which seemed to avoid the shallows and the reefs with a kind of sleepwalking matter of course being in some way redolent of magic.

Its sails got already reefed and the crew was busy to prepare for shore leave.

Almost unnoticed and some days too early the "Silver Stream" returned back from her last adventure. She was a proud galleon, emblazed and impressive – a sight to behold...

Up at the helm stood two men who shared the watch and kept taps on the crew and the mist which blocked their view – the captain and his first mate and steersman.

"Mister Turner, make sure that this old lady will find back to her place safely and silently! We're a bit too early and I think we'll cause some of our beloved ones a big surprise today. I bet none of them reckons on us."

The captain lowered his spyglass and pushed it together.

"Aye, captain! Supposedly you're right. But don't you think as well it's better to return some days too early instead of never..." The first mate – Bill Turner – asked with a grin.

"Indeed, that's true. It did not miss much and we would have ended up at Davy Jones' Locker." The captain replied. He hesitated for a moment and frowned when he went on: "I only hope we really stayed unchallenged when we left the isle. This adventure isn't over yet and it could cause us a lot of trouble with the council of the Brethren Court. It's no secret at all that the boy we pulled out of the bay is not just an ordinary someone."

"Teague will get in violent temper if he comes to know what we did."

"Take my oath, my friend, he will..."

"And for sure his shadow in human form, this miscreant – Finch – will already have reported it to him."

"That's dead certain!"

"And it does neither cause you bellyache nor does it worry you?"

"No!" A broad grin appeared upon the captain's lips: "Far from it! The boy owns everything a pirate should own and much more. He's clever and courageous! His talents would have been wasted if we would have left him at Shipwreck Island or at Tortuga! Much worse: They really think their code and their brethren are much worthier than such a brave and dauntless boy. Barely to believe that he's the son of Edward Teague, isn't it?" He got stern again: "It's a pity that he's still too young to stay aboard but it would be a shame taking him with us only to use his skills to let him work as a cabin boy. Don't you agree?"

Turner gazed at him with a smirk: "Come off it, Patrick! Two or three years to come and he's in command!"

"What's this, William Turner? You're not planning a mutiny, eh?"

Both men burst out laughing while the fog slowly lifted and gave sight to the bay, the settlement and the breathtaking environment. Mostly it were framed houses which snuggled to the hillside. They belonged to the crew and their families, to fishermen, sailors, merchants, craftsmen and innkeepers. It was a peaceful life which followed its own rules and rhythm.

The port had room for two ships and another galleon was already moored to the pier when the "Silver Stream" reached her berth nearly soundless but the bay was wide enough to grant shelter to some more ships if necessary.

* * *

Captain Patrick Swallow and his partner Rosalind Stevens belonged to that continuously shrinking group of pirates who managed to stay free from any rules. They still sailed the seven seas only for their own profit while most of their former companions were vested with letters of marque now and sailed in the name of the King and the Crown of England or crooked to the council of the Brethren Court of Shipwreck Cove and its code - the dure and unrelenting pirate law.

Patrick and Rosalind found this strange but nevertheless enchanting island on one of their preys after they stayed at sea for countless weeks and months just coming ashore to take supplies aboard or to hide from severe weather. Meanwhile the two captains used the unique bearing of this isle and its hidden bay as a well sheltered hide out and as a kind of base for their preys.

Swallow's crew was totally loyal because there was neither an excessive strength aboard his vessel nor an all too lax regime. He knew very well how to handle all those different characters he was surrounded by and none of the men doubted his orders. They used to share their loots one to one with an extra part for the captain. Mostly this part was meant to got spend within the tavern as soon as they reached the next port – a payment for a proper drinking bout and some well provided wenches.

Patrick Swallow was a man in his middle ages. Who ever came across him for the first time would never supposed him to be a sailor or a dreaded pirate. He was neither tall nor was he strong but he owned an unmistakable feeling for doing the right thing within the right moment. This unique sense and his knowledge of tactics and navigation made him one of the best captains sailing these waters.

Due to these skills he and Rosalind succeeded in sending about fifty trading and merchant vessels to the deep depths of Davy Jones' Locker within only one year equal under which colors they did sail. Both – the Spanish and the English – offered a prize on his head but his only answer when he came to know that also the French followed this example was a loud laugh. Afterwards he ordered another mug of beer and went on celebrating with his crew.

His missing strength and his lack of size he equalized with robustness and agility as well as with cleverness and slyness. In addition he owned an already legendary grasp for the sea and its inscrutable depths.

His weathered face was tanned and sunburned. It got dominated by his lively gray and sparkling eyes. Meanwhile his long hair – once ash blond – got bleached by the sun and the salty water of the sea and several gray strands already mingled in within the bygone months. He used to wear it in a loose braid which let him appear much younger than he actually was.

Swallow was a passionate captain and he loved his ship and his crew. Every man aboard knew that he would never leave a man behind if he was able to avoid it.

For him the loss of a good man was much worse than to lose a proper prey.

However, from time to time he felt driven to leave his ship and the wide open ocean to stay ashore. Then no one came across him or even spotted him for weeks and anybody knew there was only one reason for his strange behavior:

His beautiful partner Rosalind Stevens.

His crew knew that it was once again time now to stay ashore for a couple of weeks but even if there was no reason to spend just a hint of a thought on a new adventure there was e lot of work to do anyway.

The weeks ashore would pass by within a blink of an eye and in the end they all would be convinced that it was much too less time to finish all the repairing, the renovation and the mending the ship needed. Not to forget about the storing of fresh water, fresh fruit, supplies, rum, powder and lots of other goods they were in need of. So thinking of it the shore leave was really welcome. Much more because no one aboard would deny that it was much more comfortable to do the mending within the calm waters of the bay instead of having to do it while being tossed to and fro by the sometimes rough waves out on the open ocean.

So there was not to fear to die due to boredom. Most of the men were also glad to stay at home for a month or two. They already started to get impatient to finally see their families again.

* * *

Of all the questions Patrick Swallow had to deal with at the moment he got bothered especially by one. He asked himself what could happen to him and his men as soon as the council of Shipwreck Cove and their leader, the keeper of the code of Morgan and Bartholomew, would find out aboard which vessel the boy escaped.

Swallow knew very well that neither he nor his crew could expect any mercy if the council would draw its conclusions. Since they did not accept the code and the pirate law they were indeed free from its duties and its repression but they also lost the protection and the shelter the code granted. Nevertheless Patrick was convinced that the decision he made when he turned his back on the brotherhood was right although he had no illusions what would happen to him if they would ever find his secret hideout.

Bill Turner tore him out of his thoughts: "What do you have in mind concerning the boy, eh? Will you take him with you to stay together with you in your cottage?"

"Yes, that's what I want to do. Rosalind will love him. And to be honest, although he's already a versed sailor he's still a cute little boy as well." Patrick replied.

"Oh yes! There's no doubt about Rosalind and that she will love him but what's with Caithleen? Don't you think she could get jealous? You didn't raise her as a girl or even a lady. Sometimes it seems she acts much more like a boy than it suits for a younger woman."

"Don't be at fault, Bill. Caith is already woman enough to turn a man's head. She owns enough female attractions and I fear I have to defend them against her admirers soon."

"That's not to overlook that she will become as pretty as her mother some day but that's not what I asked, Pat. You know very well that she's able to defend herself and I can't help, my friend, I doubt that it was only Rosalind who taught her how to shoot, how to fence and how to use a pistol, a cutlass and the grapnel."

"It was only Roaslind who taught her that, mate!" Patrick denied with a wink.

"Then you should better warn the poor before he makes the mistake to think Caithleen's just a girl. Maybe you should teach him some tricks for self defense against her..."

"I also thought of that but after he spent his whole life within the fortress of Shipwreck Cove amongst a breed of remorseless, reckless and cruel miscreants I suppose him to be very well in the know how to resist her. He's the son of captain Edward Teague so he should know what it means to fight for his life. Not an easy life, if you ask me, why else should he prefer to take flight from the isle?" With a shrug he added: "But I'm still convinced that it won't be necessary for him to defend himself against the girl. Think they will either hate each other or they will end up within the hayrick. In that case Rosalind would throw me out of our cottage without further ado but to be honest I would prefer that anyhow. Imagine Caith and the boy – there would be some pretty little ones to be to expect, eh...?"

Both men started laughing.

The same moment the "Silver Stream" reached her berth and the anchor fell with a loud rattle. Swallow was contented. There weren't many steersmen being as virtuous at the helm as Bill Turner was. He was a great sailor, a courageous pirate and a good friend and Patrick couldn't imagine to miss him.

Nevertheless Patrick sometimes asked himself what it was that kept the well-adjusted and discreet Bill Turner amongst a crew of dreaded pirates especially since he found himself a pretty lass on one of their preys – a passenger aboard one of the vessels they captured. Bill saved her when the ship burst into flames and they fell for each other the same moment. When they wanted to drop her in Tortuga she decided to stay and so it happened that she stayed together with Turner within the hidden bay for a couple of years now and whenever Patrick asked why they did not return to London they kept both silent.

However the answer might be he was glad to have Turner aboard his vessel. One cool-headed man was good to have two of them were even better. They became close friends while they had been out on several preys and their friendship worked well without a lot of words.

"Any orders concerning the crew or the reparation, captain?" The quartermaster appeared up at the helm.

"If the ship is finally moored, if everything is in its place and if the watch is organized you're all free to go ashore. The men shall take some days of rest. Work can wait till the end of this week. For you all know where to find the tavern you know what to do tonight, don't you? We'll go to divide the prey tonight so tell them all to assemble in time. That's all for the moment!"

"Aye, captain!"

With it the man returned to the deck and shortly after a crew of tired sailors left the "Stream" for a well earned shore leave. Most of them were glad to feel solid floor underneath their feet again for a while and Swallow knew that he could trust in his men. It needed no orders. The men already had organized the watch by themselves and due to this fact there were no problems to expect. With sunset they would meet within the tavern and with the end of the week they would start mending the "Stream".

Not only his crew but also Patrick himself were interested in one thing – time ashore was pleasing and necessary but it wasn't meant to last an eternity...

The same moment Patrick stopped short. Something was different this time – and he had nearly forgotten what it was!

"Sir?" The youthful voice tore him out of his thoughts and caught his attention: "What's going to happen to me?"

In front of him stood a cute boy of about fifteen years. He was slender, lissome and already really keen for his age. His pretty face with its delicately chiseled features, its soft brown eyes and its perfectly carved lips was tanned and Patrick was convinced that he would turn lots of girls' heads and break lots of girls' hearts some day.

Here and now he cocked his head and gazed at Swallow expectantly. If it was admiration or only relief wasn't easy to say, but without fail it seemed as if the lad was glad that Patrick pulled him out of the bay of Shipwreck Cove and decided not to take him back to the fortress but to this secret hideout instead although this rescue nearly resembled an abduction.

The boy did not lament when Patrick told him that he had to stay aboard for a while. Quite the contrary. As long as the crossing took he asked intelligent questions and it turned out that he was eager and thirsty for knowledge. There was no doubt, the lad knew already a lot about seafaring and navigation and Patrick was convinced that he would become a captain of a fitting vessel on his own some day.

Swallow gave him a smile and wrapped an arm round his shoulders then he said: "So now, Jack Sparrow, here we are. That's the isle I told you about and you'll accompany me up to the cliffs now. I'm sure you'll like my little home up there and I think you will also love the two of my crows if you'll come to know them. I promise."

* * *

The house Patrick Swallow built up for himself, his partner and her daughter on the island was settled on top of the cliff high above the sea and the bay. It looked like a little cottage, homelike and inviting with its whitewashed walls and its half savaged garden where roses, flowers, vegetables, fruit and berries grew.

The unique location of the cottage made it possible to have a wide view over the bay, the open ocean and the back country of the isle without being seen oneself. It was a great sight and the boy had an enthused look around.

A thin trail of smoke ascended from the chimney and a woman was just opening the blinds and the windows when she recognized her early visitors after having hesitated for a split second.

"Patrick!"

Only one moment later she opened the door and threw herself into the arms of her captain. It needed not long and they forgot about everything they were surrounded by:

The here and now, the beautiful morning and the boy who stared shyly and waveringly at his boots tips.

It had been just a moment later when another woman appeared in the door. She was young, much more a girl of his age than a woman though. Untamed black curls surrounded her pretty narrow face and fell unhindered into her shining and sparkling gray eyes. Her skin was tanned so she was used to stay in the open and she was dressed like a boy.

When she got aware of Patrick and Rosalind she rolled her eyes knowing immediately what was going on. She waved the boy to follow her and said with a shrug: "Better don't mind it! I'm already used to it means it will last a little longer, you know. C'mon, you must be hungry."

With another curious glance at the entangled pair the boy followed the girl into the house: "I suppose they like each other, eh?"

"That?" The girl laughed: "Oh yes, they like each other deeply. Sometimes that deeply that they forget about everything. I prefer to stay outside then. You know what's meant, don't you?"

He gazed at her in surprise and answered a little confused about her straightforwardness: "What? Oh yes! Yes, I know..." He cleared his throat and then he asked: "Who are you?"

"I'm Caithleen! Caithleen Stevens! That's my mum out there! She's the owner of the ship down in the bay moored to the pier. Of the "Eagle's Wing"! I'm supposed to become her captain some day she says." She smiled and went on: "What's with you? Who are you?"

"Who? I mean, what? Me! Ah...Yes...I'm Jack Sparrow!" He smirked: "I want to be the captain of a ship some day as well. I love the sea and I love my freedom!"

"So do I!"

They smiled at each other and kept silent for a while until Caithleen said: "Don't be shy, please. No need for something like that! Sit down! I suppose Patrick wants you to stay with us up here?"

"Yes, that was what he said! At least something like that..."

"Uhh! I hope it does not mean that I have to behave like a lady from now on..."

Jack shook his head, and grinned: "You haven't! Not to please me! I'm not used to stay amongst ladies."

"Oh good! I'm glad to hear that because we'll share the chamber up there due to the lack of space within here, you know." When she saw his inquiring gaze she added: "No need to worry! We'll share the chamber not the bed..."

With it she started to lay the table with almost everything she found within the small kitchen and while doing so she glanced at Jack from time to time. They didn't say a word until she finished and her curiosity was nearly boiling over, but before she was able to ask him another question Rosalind and Patrick entered the room.

"So, you're Jack Sparrow, the son of captain Teague?" Rosalind perched herself astride on a stool and looked straight into his eyes. She grasped for a mug of wine and added: "Can't say that I envy you about this fact, son. Surely it's not easy to survive within the fortress nowadays, isn't it?"

"I preferred to choose my freedom!" Jack answered and he looked much more stern than a boy of his age was supposed to.

"Yes, I can understand it!" A shadow passed over Rosalind's face and let her appear much older than she actually was. She looked like an older version of Caithleen with one single difference: she wore her long black hair in a braid. A badly healed scar was to spot upon her left cheek but it wasn't able to destroy her beauty. Jack wasn't sure why but the smile which enlightened her face never reached her eyes as if something kept her from feeling joy. When she replaced her mug to the table Jack got aware that her hand as well as her arm up to her shoulder were also scarred.

"It's not really a sight to behold, isn't it, lad?" She asked and he winced.

"I'm sorry! I didn't want..."

"I know, I know! No need for excuses! I don't worry about it any more! They're all gained within honest fights and mostly it was my fault anyway! But let's talk about you, Jack Sparrow! Patrick told me about your bold escape. I stayed within the fortress for several times. Not often but often enough to know that living under the code isn't easy. Especially if I think of that scum that calls itself pirate or buccaneer! There is only one reason why they're willing to accept the code. Because they're in need for the shelter the code and the brethren grants them! But it's not included that a boy like you turns his back on the fortress, am I right? The more if the boy's the son of the legendary captain Teague! I fear they're not glad about your flight!"

Rosalind's voice reflected her feelings: disgust and reluctance.

It passed by rapidly and she went on with a smile: "But tell me, Jack Sparrow, if you're really Teague's son I suppose you to be already a suitable sailor up to now."

"I was out on a foray aboard my own vessel for several times!" Jack replied.

Rosalind and Patrick looked at each other in surprise then she smiled again and said: "Well, that sounds promising! What do you think, are you interested in hiring aboard my ship and in sailing under my command? I'm in need for a young and temerarious fellow who loves the sea and on whom I and Caithleen can count on..."

"But you don't know anything about me but my name..."

"Well, it's time then to find out who you really are, young mister Sparrow, and what skills you own. You love your freedom, right? She as well..." Rosalind pointed at Caithleen: "If you're both willing you can make a lot out of your skills. So, listen to me, then. Both ships moored to the pier down within the bay will need a younger captain some day. Show me what talents are yours. If I do not know much about you now, I will know a lot about you as soon as we'll set sail for the first time and return from our first prey afterwards, lad. And who knows, if I can trust you I'll possibly leave the "Wing" to you and Caithleen for I would love to stay ashore some day..."


	2. 1716 A Girl named Caithleen

**Chapter 1: 1716 A Girl named Caithleen**

„Aren't you bothered by sharing your sleeping chamber with a girl?"

"What?" Jack raised his head when he heard Caithleen speak.

So she finally woke up after the midday heat slowly started to ebb away, which even up here, high above the bay, prevented even the slightest fervor to move. She sat upon her bed, legs crossed, rubbed her eyes and struck some of her disheveled black curls out of her face.

Somewhen earlier her smooth breath told him that she had fallen asleep and because he was neither interested in strolling round the isle all alone nor to sleep as well he had buried himself amongst a stack of books Patrick Swallow had left to him willingly.

Jack still wondered how different the man was compared to lots of others he came across since he was able to remember it.

For sure, Patrick was also a pirate but not only his attitude was distinct from those captains who frequently visited Shipwreck Island. The way he commanded his ship was also dissimilar to most of the captains he had been able to look at. For Patrick and his crew not only pillaging, plundering and planning their next capture raid had a meaning but friendship, trust and loyalty as well.

The bay, they all lived in, wasn't comparable with Shipwreck Cove, the place he grew up in, – neither with its size nor with its meaning – but there was something special this place was surrounded by. Jack already felt it although it was just quite a year he lived amongst this little band of pirates and fishermen. None of them worried about the size or the meaning of the bay. There was something much more valuable they strived for – a life in peace and freedom...

Freedom!

How much he had longed for it when he still lived on Shipwreck Island!

He felt trapped upon the isle since he had been a little boy, since he came to know that it was not he or his father and mother who ruled his life but the cruelty and the code the brotherhood leaned on. So he decided that it would be much more bearable to drown himself within the bay while making a try to escape instead of living under the pirate law.

Jack smiled. He was still alive and it was nearly a year now that he shared a small and narrow chamber with Rosalind Stevens' daughter. And it was the first time ever that she asked him a question like that.

Meanwhile her hands rested laxly on her knees and she kept curiously taps on him while he read in and thumbed through one of Patrick's books.

No! It did not bother him to share this chamber together with her!

Quite the contrary!

Somewhen he murmured into the silence then: "You're different!"

"What?"

"You're not like other girls, lass!"

"Aha!" Caithleen cocked her head and went on asking: "You know much then, do you? I mean that's what it sounds like..."

"Not much, but enough to know that you're different! They're not like you! I mean they're not able to do what you do. They're asking stupid questions and they're only interested in boys, dresses and how to paint their faces..."

"Ah! I see! But I ask questions as well. Just right now, for example..."

"That's not the same!"

"Is it not?"

"No! You're able to fence, you know how to shoot, you can navigate a ship and you're aware how to read and how to interpret a sea chart! If we're aboard your mother's ship I don't have to explain to you constantly what's meant! So, that's why I think you're different. Savvy?"

"Oh! That's why!" Caithleen laughed and her gray eyes were shimmering within the diffuse light of their shaded little room: "I had never enough time to spend it thinking about dresses and how to paint my face. I spent nearly my whole life aboard a ship until we found this island. So what is it you expect me to be, eh?"

"Don't know, love! All I know is that if I'll get me a girl some day she has to be the same like you. At any rate! I mean somewhen later, you know! Not yet, right now. Later... Oh bugger!"

Jack started sputtering and became silent. He lowered his head – mostly because he wanted to avoid that Caithleen might be able to find out that his cheeks started to redden – and turned towards his book again.

It was the travel report of a French adventurer who went to Tortuga and searched for some of the most infamous pirates sailing within the Caribbean. He accompanied them for about two years and documented their raids, their adventures and their cruelties. Aside of it he used this unique chance to describe and sketch lots of animals, plants and landscapes.

Jack loved the stories Alexandre Exquemelin wrote about pirates, their forays and all those studies he made and the way the French told his stories caught him immediately as soon as he read the first pages.

That was why he got caught by surprise when Caithleen asked him: "Have you already had a girl up to now...?"

He was barely able to avoid that he dropped the book. What he wasn't able to avoid was that he blushed up to his ears when he gazed at her.

He shook his head, cleared his throat and answered with a throaty voice: "Nope! Unless a kiss counts as well..."

"Oh, there's no need to worry about it! I'm still a virgin as well..."

Jack beheld Caithleen and he asked himself why it neither sounded that frivolous nor that spoiled when she asked him for it like with most of those girls on Shipwreck Island who made eyes at him back then...

* * *

"Why did you take flight from Shipwreck Island?" Caithleen took place vis a vis to Jack on the other side of the divan standing at the wall a chalice of wine within her hand: "I never asked you about it up to now because it was obvious that you did not want to talk about it..."

They stayed alone within the little cottage upon the cliffs high above the bay after Patrick Swallow and Rosalind Stevens decided not to take them aboard their ships when they went out on another prey and so they passed the time reading, gambling and strolling round the beach and the isle for hours.

One evening after the other passed by while they were studying sea charts and thumbing through uncountable books thereby dreaming of all those adventures and the freedom a life aboard a ship promised.

"The isle was much worse than a prison." Jack finally answered: "You choke on rules and duties. Life's ruled by the code and the code is law!"

"Patrick told me about it and about its authors. It's the code of Morgan and Bartholomew, isn't it?"

"Aye! You're right, love. Every single article got written down within an enormous book. It's locked and kept within the fortress where I got raised and you can trust me they do care much more about the book and the code than about their children."

"So that is why you ran away then?"

Jack shook his head: "No! I couldn't care less about this, love. I already owned a ship and I was allowed to leave whenever I wanted to..."

"What else was the reason then?"

"Shipwreck Island, its town and its fortress aren't similar to the cozy little hideout Patrick led you to. The bay provides moorings for about fifty ships and who's taking his first visit within the town must be convinced that it only persists of taverns and brothels. There is nothing you'll be able to imagine you'll miss if you get there. The main thing is you'll keep to the code as long as you'll stay. Whoever dares to offend against it gets punished. That's why I took flight. Savvy?"

"Why? What happened to you?"

"I dared to free a friend of mine out of the cell they kept hold of him within and it wasn't the first time that I refused playing the game in a way the rules would have demanded it. They tried to force me to sell my friend out, but I resisted their slaps and the humiliation they put me through. When I still wasn't willing to give in my father took my ship away from me and threatened me with sending me to prison as well. I ran away! That was the night when Swallow pulled me out of the bay." He grinned: "In some way it can be called ironic. I never wanted to become a pirate, but as it seems..."

"You're right amongst us now..." Caithleen gave back the grin.

"Yep! From bad to worse!" Jack looked openly into her face and they both burst out laughing then he added: "Well, love, if this is supposed to be the worst, I'm not sorry if that's what you probably would have asked next..."

Caithleen nodded and explained: "For sure you already did notice that Patrick is different. Neither he nor one of his men own letters of marque. Patrick sails just on his own expense without rendering account about it – neither to the King not to the Brethren Court."

Jack pricked his ears in surprise: "You know about the Brethren Court?"

"Not much", she admitted: "Just what Patrick and Rosalind thought to be important enough of telling it to me. Maybe you should come to know that Patrick saved us from a Spanish slave ship."

"Oh!" Jack was amazed at this piece of information: "You missed to mention this before. So, Patrick Swallow is not your father?"

He stared at Caithleen totally puzzled. Although they never really spoke about the life they led before it brought them together on this enchanted island he had always been convinced about the idea that Patrick Swallow must be her father.

As it seemed he did err...

"No! Patrick is not my father but he tries whatever possible to replace him. In every single meaning of it. He taught me how to shoot and how to fence. He showed me how to navigate and how I'm able to sense how a ship feels. Patrick is convinced that his vessel is a kind of a human being. His "Stream" is like a lover to him and that's how he treats her. He nourishes her that sometimes even his men start to roll their eyes." Caithleen smiled when she went on: "Rosalind calls him a fool and she teases him with it, but meanwhile you already know him as well. He takes his bottle of rum and retires to a place she's not meant to find him there – just because he wants her to find him there. What's with you? Do you think, he's right?"

"Yes, love, I think he's right, because I felt the same. It is possible to love a ship. Sometimes it feels alive as if it breathes and if the sails get caught by the wind it sounds as if it talks to you. If I'm the captain of my own vessel again some day I want to feel its heartbeat again."

Jack's eyes were shimmering when he told Caithleen about his wish and she liked the enthusiasm he felt for his little musing. He had a dream and she wished it might come true some day because it was the same dream she dreamt as long as she was able to remember.

Just a moment later Jack got stern again, when he asked: "How does it happen that Patrick and Rosalind fell for each other?"

Caithleen sighed before she went on with her story: "After Patrick freed me, my mother and lots of other prisoners he left us a choice: To stay aboard his vessel or to be taken ashore as soon as we would make berth the next time. My mother was used to live aboard a ship so we stayed with him. Lasting for months it was rather seldom that we spent more than a few days ashore until they found this island some day. It's a unique place. A little bit unreal but it's a well hidden place. Patrick's dream is it to stay here together with my mother, living here together and getting old together. He loves her deeply and so does she but she's afraid she might could lose him the same like she lost my father..."

"What happened?"

"My father – Captain Jeremy Stevens – wanted to capture a Spanish galleon. It was told to be an assured and profitable prize but it was a trap. Half a dozen Spanish warships already expected him and his crew. They lured him into an ambush, disabled his ship and boarded. When they found me and my mother they took us aboard their ship and told my father that they would sell us to a brothel as soon as they would reach the Spanish main. In the end they burnt my father's ship on the open ocean with everything aboard they had left behind."

Caithleen's voice died more and more away the longer she spoke. Jack found something within her eyes he knew only too well – pure horror!

He was barely willing to believe what he just heard: "Does everything really mean everything, love?"

"That it means!" Caithleen went on with a hoarse and nearly choked voice: "My father and his crew still remained aboard when his vessel burst into flames. The Spanish locked the men within the freight room and enchained my father to the helm. They celebrated and laughed when the fire finally reached the powder magazine and the vessel burst asunder..."

Jack gazed at her shocked by all he just had heard.

Caithleen swallowed and finished soundless: "They got burnt when they still had been alive. All I've left of my father are fading memories. I try to keep them but bit by bit I lose even the last pictures of him I still can remember."

Her eyes filled with tears and she tried desperately to push these dark memories aside. It was in vain.

The young man at her side remained silent.

Jack had already heard a lot and had been forced to watch a lot of cruelties with his own eyes but what he just heard from Caithleen let him shiver. He gazed at the sunken down figure of the girl who cowered within her part of the divan and out of a sudden resolve he went closer to her and reached out his hand.

Within that moment when he carefully and somehow tentative wrapped an arm round her shoulders she asked him: "Oh, Jack, it's so senseless and cruel! Why does something like this happen? Why are people so cruel?"

Her voice soaked in tears when she got tossed by sobbing.

"I've no idea, love! I've really no idea."

Jack's voice was just a soft whisper but within his eyes flared a dark flame. His gaze was a mix of pure horror and barely restrained fury. He felt a kind of wildly firmness rising within him when he got aware that Caithleen slowly calmed down within his arms.

He took himself an oath that he would do everything he was able to, to prevent those he loved from a fate like this. Patrick Swallow and a lot of those people living within the bay had become a kind of a family to him during the bygone year and he felt a deep sympathy for this place and its inhabitants – and he didn't want to lose it, because this place felt like a very well hidden shelter to him.

Rosalind Stevens accepted him like being her own son although she never before had come to know him. To her he wasn't a stranger anymore and even when she came to know that he and Caithleen spent much more time together than they were supposed to she wasn't willing to prevent it.

She felt that he and her daughter desperately clung one to another. Two lonely and hurt souls.

Involuntarily he dragged Caithleen closer. He wasn't willing anymore to give her up.

Within all those years he had spent at Shipwreck Cove love had always been a something he just knew out of the stories he got told or he read about. Mostly the men had a partner though but as long as there were enough taverns and brothels within the next port there were also enough wenches and harlots to spend a night with and no one thought about the wife he left behind. But the same applied for the women as well who mostly weren't disinclined to an amorous adventure as long as their husband stayed at sea.

Just to think about living a different life seemed to them to be somehow weird. So no one would have accepted a life Patrick Swallow and Rosalind Stevens decided to live.

Therefore he felt much more intimate what the warmth and the closeness really meant to him Caithleen provided him with.

She moved within his arms.

"Thank you", she whispered and wiped a last tear from her eye. A small smile appeared upon her lips.

"What for?"

"You suffered it to see not only my happy face..."

"I would suffer everything for you, love..."

Jack gazed at her. Something did chance between them and even if he wasn't able to explain right now what it was he knew very well that it happened. It seemed as if he met her for the first time tonight and something strange, something unknown got mingled amongst the familiarity which bound them together for several months now. Something which caused him a curious longing when he beheld her.

Some strands of her black hair curled round her ears and on her cheeks, her eyes were still a little bit watery but they shimmered within the little light and her reddened lips made up a delicate contrast to her tanned skin.

So it happened that he gently struck the curls from her face and that he let his fingers carefully slip over her lips. They felt warm and soft and he wasn't able to avert his gaze. He started to caress her cheek tenderly before he buried his hand within her hairline.

She looked directly into his eyes when he slowly dragged her closer to breath a first shy kiss upon her lips.

Filled with bashfulness they broke the kiss but both of them weren't able to break the gaze as well. Eyes still locked Caithleen let her fingers trace the fine lines of his eyebrows and his face then it was she who dragged him into her arms and it needed not much longer until they finally ended upon the much too narrow divan – tightly embraced and inebriated by those new feelings they just crashed into now...

* * *

A single sunbeam found its way into the small room through that narrow split of its not totally drawn curtains. It fell down on Caithleen's face, tickled her nose for a moment and shone upon her lips.

Jack hoped she would stay fast asleep because if she did he was able to behold her a bit longer without her realizing it immediately.

It was still early in the morning, but he hadn't been able to sleep any longer. So he enjoyed it to keep taps on her, the more since they spent the bygone night with exploring each other using their heated lips and their trembling fingers – until Caithleen went upstairs to lay down.

She had already been asleep when he followed her – at least that was what he believed. He himself hadn't slept a wink.

Somewhen he realized that Caithleen lost the thin linen blanket she was covered with and because she obviously did neither notice it nor did she wake up due to its loss he sneaked silently over to her berth to cover her again.

Once again he beheld her.

Her untamed black curls surrounded her narrow face with its delicately chiseled features and her lips were slightly open within her sleep while her neckline let his gaze follow down to the first signs of her youthful breasts. For a moment he was tempted to touch and to caress her but he retracted his hand – both confused and excited about the feeling she was able to cause within him.

Since the bygone night she was not only the pretty girl anymore he strolled round the isle with but a young woman of natural beauty he started to desire...

* * *

**Thanks to all my readers and to those who took a visit to my profile. That was revised chapter two. Hope you enjoyed it...**


	3. 1716 Lessons in Piracy

**Chapter 2: 1716 Lessons in Piracy**

The „Eagle's Wing" sailed under full and swelled canvas when she veered into the wind and held a direct course towards the narrow passage leading straight into the hidden bay. Just shortly before she reached the entrance to that strait outlet with its spiteful currents she turned about and passed the dangerous position with a notedly lower speed.

Right here the rather calm waters coming out of the bay met the untamed waves coming from the open ocean and surged foaming and spraying back against the cliff line which rose on both sides of the passage.

The "Wing" seemed to dance upon the waves and to conquer them with some playful ease, while she planed on them the same moment without being carried away by the current. Her heading was the passage and the bay waiting for her after having gotten through it.

"What's going to happen here!" Rosalind's voice sounded above the whole deck when she rushed out of the captain's cabin, frowning like a tropical storm.

Embarrassed silence followed her question while the men were busy to concentrate on their work and while trying the same time to appear unknowing and uninvolved.

"Well then, gentlemen, as you wish! Mister Jacobsen!" Rosalind searched the whole deck of the "Wing" with narrowed eyes to find her first mate and helmsman.

She was foaming not less than the waves bursting ashore – but indeed from anger – so the man decided that it was much more astucious not to upset her any more: "Aye, captain!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, eh? Why does she sail under full canvas and who ordered this course?"

Jacobsen kept silent and Rosalind knew exactly that he was trying to hide something from her although he was in the know about the fact that she already looked him through.: "Miss Rosalind! Captain! The crew is not to blame for what happened..."

"If it's necessary you're my right hand, Mister Jacobsen! So you better start praying that we won't hit a reef of reach the shallows! Who's at the helm?"

"I..." Jacobsen started speaking but paused again immediately.

"Well, then! Be glad that I know you and the men so well! Otherwise I would feel tempted to allege that you planned a mutiny! Got that?"

Without waiting for his reply she rushed away and jumped up the few steps to the helm. There she stood rooted to the ground while staring with wide open eyes at what she found up there.

In front of the helm, the wheel within a firm grip, stood – Jack Sparrow...

The boy was completely focussed to the helm – up to the last thread of his slender body – and the ship followed willingly every single of his moves. There was no strain upon his face, no effort, nearly as if he was used to sail a ship of this size.

Rosalind kept taps on him for a while then she cleared her throat and crossed her arms in front of her chest: "I accept that you turned my daughter's head, Mister Sparrow, especially because she obviously turned yours as well, but aboard this vessel you will keep to the rules. This is my vessel which makes me captain and you the ship's boy. Did I make myself clear, lad?"

"Aye, Madam Stevens!" Jack responded sheepishly.

He gazed at her and a smile found its way back to his lips – Rosalind wasn't as enraged as she wanted to make him and her crew believe. And while he was still deliberating about whether he should ask her about her allowance to stay at the helm she explained: "However, aboard my vessel it's also my decision which duties my ship's boy has to take over."

"Madam?"

"Don't act the fool, Jack. You know exactly what I want to tell you! And for sure you know exactly what you're supposed to do to reach the aim you want to reach. Do you really think I'm not aware that you watch me whenever I sail the "Wing" through this passage? You're clever and that's why you're here, son..."

Rosalind gave him a wink and went on: "I'm not in need for a prove that you've already been at sea before Patrick brought you here. And I wasn't joking when I said I would be willing to leave the "Wing" to you and Caithleen some day. So listen to me carefully: All I want you to do is to keep on watching what's going on aboard my vessel, how I lead my ship and my crew and how I'm sailing this ship!"

When Jack just stared at her without giving her a reply she nodded and pointed towards the helm with her head: "I want you to sail her through the passage! The worst which could possibly happen to us is to end at Davy Jones' Locker if you should forget about the reefs and the shallows, but I think it's worth to take that risk. Don't you agree, eh?"

Rosalind watched contentedly how the boy started to fulfill her order with ardent zeal. He grasped the wheel and sailed the "Wing" through the passage at close quarters to bring her into the bay with a nearly somnambulistic safeness – past the reef, the shallows and the fishing boats.

Somewhen she yelled: "Mister Jacobsen! Take the helm and take her to her berth!"

"Aye, Ma'am!"

Barely after the man took the helm she wrapped an arm round Jack's shoulders and led him straight towards the captain's cabin. He hesitated to follow her but she dropped down on a chair, placed her feet upon the table and waved him to come in.

She pointed at another chair and said: "Don't be bashful, lad! Sit down and don't act as if you're in here for the first time!"

She waited until he sat vis a vis to her and went on: "Want you to listen very well to all I'm going to tell you now! One day you will be captain of this vessel. That's why I want you to understand right here and know what exactly it means to be the captain of a ship. It's not the same like being out on a foray with some friends of yours who are of the same age. You will sail with a crew of old salts if it is as far as but keep to the rules. No one is intending to ban you from getting friends with the men you will command but mark my words, Jack: You are the captain! You and no one else aboard your vessel! Means to assert yourself! The men shall respect you! Which way ever you will achieve it! Believe me, you will find your way! Another thing you should never forget about is: You can always trust in yourself, you can always trust in your ship but you will need a crew as well you can trust in. So keep in mind, what I'll tell you now. Don't listen to all those stories the men will tell you if you want to hire a crew, just trust in your feeling."

"But how will I be able to hire the right men if I'm going on an adventure or a quest?"

"Never talk about your adventure, your quest or your planned prey before you'll set sail. Mostly the men are much more interested in the prey or in a treasure than in everything else. Hire those men who are asking questions about your ship, about your plans if you're not at sea. You're the son of Edward Teague so I suppose you to be in the know what it means to sail aboard a pirate vessel – even if you're not willing to accept the code. Place a contract with your crew, your own contract. The code is law, as you know, but I'm convinced it's much more useful if a captain and his crew are bound by an own contract."

Rosalind replaced her feet from the table and bent over to face Jack: "And there is one last thing for today, lad, I want you to heed: Never underestimate your enemies. Let them believe you're a fool, let them feel superior. It will save your life..."

* * *

"Take this!" Patrick passed a bottle of rum over to Jack and let himself drop on one of those stones lying all around the place: "Drink, son! It's not poisoned!" He pushed his sword with its blade into the pliant ground and watched the boy when he put the bottle to his lips: "Not that hesitantly! Your enemies won't mind if you're sober or if you're drunk as hell when they're going to attack you!"

Jack took a deep draft of that brown drink, gasped for air for a moment and looked at Swallow in disbelief: "What kind of brewage is this...?"

Patrick just smiled: "That's rum, lad, what else? Home made, as to be considered! C'mon! Take another draft! It will remind you of all I'm going to tell you today. Well, then, listen to me carefully, son: You can always drink as much as you want to or as you're able to – you will come to know that this is a difference – but never forget to keep yourself under control! Tell it to yourself that you always should be able to shoot, to seduce a pretty girl or to fence!"

He did not finish yet when said sword already lay within his hand again as well as a strait dagger he just pulled out of his boot with his left. Using both blades he started to lunge at the boy.

"Oi!"

Caught by surprise Jack stumbled some steps back, warded the first blade off firstly then the second, then he performed a half turn, used the swing and struck against the dagger. Patrick lost it and Jack dived through underneath the next flourish, pushed the blade aside with his own and jumped over it when Patrick aimed at his legs. With a courageous jump he reached the top of that stone Patrick sat upon before. He warded Patrick's next flourish off again but within the same moment the clever captain let cant his wrist.

Jack wasn't able to avoid that he stumbled forward due to his own swing. The same moment he felt Patrick's blade at his throat. He gasped for air and asked finally: "I'never saw this trick before! Where did you learn it?"

"It's my idea! Well and truly! It always works! Catch your enemy by surprise – use his swing or his carelessness and then it's just one small move and you'll win. Remember this trick if necessary and it will serve you well. Trust me!"

"I hope I will be able to avoid it!" Jack shook sand and dust from out of his hair and from his clothes and grasped for the bottle of rum which lay on the ground: "Otherwise I could get used to it..."

"To the fight or the rum?" Patrick grinned.

"The rum!"

"Right answer, son! You should never feel used to fighting! Every duel, every seafight and every battle is different and your opponents will never play according to your rules. Just according to their rules equal if ashore or at sea. But there is one possibility how you'll be able to rule the game..."

"Let them take me for a fool...?"

"Jack, don't get me wrong, but you're definitely spending too much time with Rosalind. Or shall I better say with our sweet Caithleen, eh?" Patrick burst out laughing when he got aware that Jack degressed bashfully.

He gave the boy a pat on his back that he jumped forward and added: "No need to be shy! Our little girl makes her own decisions. My pretty Rose and I have nothing to do with it. I'm good with it if I see you together and obviously Caith is good with staying together with you."

From one moment to another Patrick got stern again: "You're still very young, Jack, but let me tell you this: If you'll come across the girl some day who means everything for you, for whom you would sacrifice everything – even your life – you will know it. Equal of which age you might be."

They remained sitting on the cliff for a while, drinking out of their bottle of rum by turns and got caught by their thoughts until Jack asked somewhen: "You don't sail neither for the King nor for the Brethren Court. You did not accept the code. Why is this so?"

"Well, Jack, as you already had to experience on your own, life isn't always what we would wish it to be. Why should I sail for the King and the Crown of England although I own it to him, his justice and his ministers who fulfill his justice that I ended up as a slave within one of their colonies? Just because I dared to speak for those no one would waste only one single breath of air for. As it seems I was lucky things didn't turn out worse. The plantation I worked on brunt down and I managed to escape together with three comrades. Don't ask me how but after several days we reached the next port. We were lucky, a merchant sailor hired us to work aboard his vessel as sailors although we must have been looking totally stuffed. We stayed aboard until we got attacked by a pirate. They left us a choice: Stay aboard their ship, get sold into slavery again or get disembowelled and die at sea. It was easy to make a choice, but one thing I'll never forget: No one – equal if he names himself king or pirate – will never again decide about what will happen in my life. No one but me..."

"So you chose the open ocean and your freedom?"

"Aye! But, Jack, you're a clever and canny boy. You will come to learn soon that even this is just an illusion. Those pirates who sail the sevens seas for their own account are a shrinking group. Our time's up. The time of those great pirates and privateers like Henry Morgan or Henry Every. Have a look around and be honest to yourself and you will come to know that the trading companies and the warships rule the seas now. Spanish, French, English! There are not many undiscovered spots left – neither at sea nor ashore."

"But there is still the mystical, the unexplainable.."

"Treasures, curses, strange inhabitants of the sea – I never came across the unexplainable but that does not mean that this will apply to you as well. At least there is no sailor sailing the seven seas who's not afraid of the "Flying Dutchman" and her eerie captain. But", Patrick got up: "it's late and I want to keep myself busy with my books and my charts for a while. Not to mention the rum and the tavern which will both wait for me tonight as well..."

* * *

~ooo~ooo~ooo~ooo~

The sun went down on the horizon within a breathtaking play of colors when Jack climbed up the cliffs to reach that well hidden place close to a little rivulet which was also that place where he and Caithleen used to meet each other when they wanted to stay alone.

Dense bushes and leaves prevented that they could be seen and protected them – if necessary – from the midday sun. Next to their enchanted little venue with its thick mossy pillows whooshed a cascade down the cliffs into the deep.

They had chosen this place because normally others only seldom strayed around it and because particularly tonight no one would really miss them. Patrick and Rosalind were meant to celebrate together with their men and share the latest prey so no one would ever think of sleeping up till the break of dawn.

Enough time then to spend a mild night together in the open underneath a starlit sky.

A smile appeared upon Jack's lips when he finally reached the venue and spotted Caithleen's meanwhile familiar silhouette against the sinking sun. She already waited for him...

A strange but welcome uneasiness befell him when he covered the last few steps to reach her, when he fell down on his knees behind her and when he struck her hair from her neck. He breathed a kiss upon her shoulder and kept his breath for a moment but this little wink of time passed by and his uncertainty vanished as soon as Caithleen leaned back against him and took his hand.

"So you made it to sneak away?" She whispered.

"Yes, love, as you can see, I am here. Finally! And I'm absolutely certain that no one will really miss me tonight." Jack grinned and placed himself vis a vis to her within the soft moss: "What did you tell Rosalind why you won't accompany her?"

"Promise me, that you won't laugh!" Caithleen gazed at him within some unlifelike sternness and he nodded: "I told her the truth!"

Jack stared at her – totally puzzled, his mouth open and with a kind of inquiring gaze: "You did what?"

"You understood very well what I just said!" Caithleen grasped him with his chin and shut his mouth: "C'mon, Jack, both of them know it! If they wouldn't like to see us together we wouldn't stay here right now."

With it she bent over to him and breathed a kiss upon his lips. When she wanted to break it he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her upon his lap. They had a deep look into each others eyes then their lips found together again within a deep and passionate kiss.

Jack's hands were slowly wandering down her shoulders and her back until they rested upon her hips and when he dragged her closer Caithleen's arms wrapped round his neck and she closed her eyes to surrender to that new and unique feeling of trust and warmth.

Somewhen later Jack gently broke the kiss and the embrace and let his fingers tenderly slide down her cheek. He struck her curls out of her face and started to caress the tip of her ear with his lips. Caithleen shivered with this soft touch and opened her eyes.

She leaned closer into him again and whispered next to his ear: "Do you want it tonight..."

Jack's hands cupped her cheeks and he leaned his brow against hers before he replied: "It doesn't matter if I am the one who wants it, love. You're the one having to want it, Caith..."

His dark eyes were shimmering within the ebbing daylight and Caithleen had no doubt that he was totally stern while leaving the decision to her. Instead of giving him a reply she buried her hands within his thick, soft strands and loosed the bandana he used to wear for several weeks now. The untamed, dark curls fell into his face – he let them grow longer...

Caithleen smiled when she gazed at him. As it turned out the cute boy Patrick brought to the isle a year earlier became a bonny young man. She kissed him again while her hands slipped underneath his shirt. She broke the kiss for just a split second when she pulled this annoying piece of cloth over his head to get rid of it. His tanned skin felt warm and tender and it shimmered as if it was made of bronze.

Jack surrendered to her touch and started for his part to open the twines which held her shirt close. She let it happen that he stripped her shirt off and she let it also happen that he beheld her for a while. Just a narrow piece of cloth covered her youthful breasts now and he wasn't quite certain if he should touch her or not.

Caithleen freed him from making a decision. She wrapped one of his curls round her finger and looked deep into his eyes. Finally she asked with a low voice: "Will it hurt...?"

"I...I don't know, love...But if I...I will try not...Well, I'll try to be careful, love..." Jack dragged her in his arms again and held her close: "Maybe a little...Maybe this time because it's the first time...But, Caith, I promise, I will never hurt you again if this is over..."

He buried his head within her shoulder and she whispered: "Then I want it, Jack..."


	4. 1716 An ill omened Encounter

**Chapter 3: 1716 An ill-omened Encounter**

"And you're really sure that you're aware of what to do?" Caithleen kept taps on Jack how he first hauled the oars inboard and then reefed the sails of their little dinghy.

"Yep! I'm, love! Sure enough!" When he spotted her skeptical look he smirked and added: "What? You can trust me, sweet, no need to doubt me. I promise that no one will come to know about this little foray within the bay. We'll be back with sundown." His grin got a bit broader and enlightened his face. He believed in what he just told her.

"What if there is someone around within the town how recognizes us?" Caithleen raised her gaze while she strapped her pant legs below her knees, wrapped a bandana round her black curls and threw the fardel she kept her shoes within over into the mellow sand of the shore.

"Who should recognize us, love? Wasn't it Patrick himself who told us that it was rather seldom that he and Rosalind lay for anchor within this bay?"

Patrick!

Caithleen let out a deep sigh. Why must Jack remind her of him just right now? Patrick Swallow was exactly that person she would have loved to be able to avoid thinking of at the moment. How she should explain to him why they dare to steal his dinghy to sail round the isle with it once did not want to come to her mind as much as she tried. There was just one hope that he would never come to know about their foray...

An even vague hope...

Therefore she decided that it was idle thinking about what might happen as soon as they would return at night. They would have enough time to deal with Patrick's supposed reaction – and maybe they would be lucky and he would never learn about this little trip to town.

Finally Caithleen jumped out of the boat to assist Jack with dragging it ashore. For they were only the two of them it turned out to be much more straining than they had thought before and they struggled with it much longer than they had expected until it lay on safe ground.

The water bathing their legs was warm, shallow and clear and the ground below their feet felt pliant and inviting and their primarily anger about the fact that they were actually landed on this spot on the isle by accident vanished with every step they took at the shore.

While Caithleen yet enjoyed the water and the sun upon her skin and the soft sand underneath her feet and arm wrapped round her waist and Jack dragged her with him when he let himself drop to the ground.

The white and fine grained sand lessened their bounce and shortly after they lay close to each other on the shore and had – both with their head rested on their hands – a closer look around.

Neither Patrick nor Rosalind had explored this part of the island throughout all the bygone years although they more than once did anchor within the lovely bay with its neat settlement to store fresh water and supplies.

This side of the isle was totally different from the one they used to hide. Here there were no high peaks, sharp cliffs or steep rugged rocks.

The whole landscape looked much more gentle and mellow than the picturesque scenery which surrounded their secret hideout. Dense virgin forest and a handful of rivers and rivulets surrounded and shielded the settlement. If not an aggressor would raid the bay and the spruce trading port from the seaside life would go on running smoothly...

Somewhen Jack crossed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes for a rest.

They flashed open the same moment when Caithleen placed herself upon his lap, bent over him and asked: "Tell me, you little crab, you won't dare to fall asleep right here and now. Eh? Without letting me know what to do next. You're the captain, aren't you? So what's going to happen next? Orders, Sir... What are we supposed to do as soon as we reach the town?"

"You can ask me this again as soon as we're there, love. But at the moment I'm neither interested in going to town nor in sleeping – for you held me off of doing so. No", he buried his hand within her hairline and dragged her down to him to face him: "I'm in need for something totally different now, love." He covered her lips with his melting in a deep kiss with her. With one fluent move he rolled her upon her back and came to lie on her tender body. He wasn't cagey about the desire he felt for her and whispered: "There is no escape for you anymore now, Caithleen Stevens. You lightened my flame of longing and desire and now I will set you on fire..."

* * *

No one paid regard to the two youngsters who seemed to have chosen today of all days to have a visit within the town.

They kept a low profile amongst all those fishermen, peasants, traders, merchants and market women who praised their goods vociferously while at the same time they tried to overcall each other. The same applied when they came across the sailors and seamen being on shore leave while their ships lay for anchor within the bay. They all swarmed ashore to have a visit with the barber, the surgeon or with one of the numerous taverns and brothels all around the place to spend a night with a frisky drinking bout, playing cards or searching for some good company with the harlots to get to satisfy some of their urgent needs.

The girl with those frizzy black curls and the boy with that pretty face vanished midst the crowd at once and got mingled amongst all those who used the market-day to have a visit in town.

Caithleen – being halfway amused and halfway puzzled – just marveled at a pair of diminutive shoes totally made of brocade when Jack joined her carrying some apples with him.

He beheld the shoes first then Caithleen and finally her bare feet then he said with a smirk while chewing a piece of one of the apples: "Huh! Don't tell me that you would like to wear something like that, love? Wearing them you would never get up into the shrouds I bet! Or you would fall out of the crow's nest ere I would be able to get you down to the deck..."

"Who is it you want to get down from the crow's nest?" Caithleen asked her eyes sparkling dangerously...

"Uh! What's this? Tell me, Caithleen Stevens, how many times have you been told that you look really terrifying if you gaze at your companions that way?"

"Never up till now. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm sure that no one will ever tell this to you, because even if you'll try to look angry you won't succeed because you'll always look like a pretty little girl. Savvy?"

"You...!"

"Oi! Time to go as it were..." Jack started running to escape her acted fury at least that long until they would both run short of breath.

When they stopped running and chasing each other through the lanes and round the places of the town they finally ended up at the harbor as they had to find out. They found themselves surrounded by lots of storage- and warehouse and the offices of the trading companies they belonged to. A loud snarl of different languages and tongues whirred round their heads and they both tried to sound out wherefrom all the men came who dealt with handling all sorts of business.

Besides English and Spanish they picked up nuggets of French, German, Italian, Dutch and Portuguese mingled with the very own sound of speech the Caribbean was known for.

Within large crates, bales and sacks spices, fabrics, tobacco, coffee and cocoa got handled from the ships over to the storehouses and vice versa. It smelled of all those temptations the wide ocean and the world offered and Jack and Caithleen remained sitting on the quay wall for a while.

"Could you imagine to become captain of a merchant vessel some day?" Caithleen asked and pointed towards the ships lying at the pier and within the bay, sailing under different colors and for different trading companies.

"Why not? Maybe not as a merchant but as a privateer. I told you once that it was not my intention to become a pirate." Jack smirked: "But it's not important any more. All I want is to stay aboard a ship some day and if I'm the captain of my own vessel you will be my first mate." He sprawled on the wall and buried his head within her lap: "Caith. Caithleen Stevens. Hmm", he looked straight into her face for a while and added with another smirk: "What do you think, how does this sound, love: Caith Sparrow?"

"Like it..." She responded while stroking his cheek.

"Would like to tell you something, sweet. Where ever I'll go some day I want you to accompany me..."

"You're a dreamer, Jack Sparrow, don't you think as well? How can you be sure today what it is you long for? How can you be sure that it is me who you'll desire within the years to come. For sure you'll come across lots of girls as soon as you're captain of your own vessel. You'll tell them the same some day..."

"No!" Jack sat up: "I won't!" His words were filled with stern when he explained: "The life Patrick and Rosalind live here together on this isle is something special. It's what I would love to have as well someday, Caith..."

"A life full of dangers...?" Caithleen teased him with a smile.

"No, but a life at sea, in freedom, aboard a ship which will carry us towards the horizon without letting us know what will wait for us..."

Suddenly a loud laughter was to hear from behind them and they found themselves surrounded by half a dozen sailors being on their way straight towards the town and for sure straight towards the next brothel.

A rude and rough voice interrupted Jack: "Listen to those little turtle doves, guys! Still wet behind their ears but already talking about love and sailing on their own ship." He built himself up in front of Jack and Caithleen and went on: "First of all you should grow up, lad. Having a look at you I would think you would not even become a ship's boy with our captain..."

"But you have to admit that this dapper little fellow is a really cute one, isn't he?" A second voice through in: "He would be the right one to keep the captain's berth warm and the captain as well..."

They burst out laughing but it was too late for Jack and Caithleen to escape their attention for they surrounded them tightly and gazed at them with unashamed lust.

"You're right!" The first man answered: "He's slender and I bet he's tight!" He grunted and his companions nodded: "But man alive, guys! Look at his girl! This little poppet he's lying around here with! What a sweet little lass! Let's place another bet. The eighth part of my share from the next prey. I bet this cute little sweet still owns her virginity..."

"I'm in!" The second replied: "Your part and mine as well, they're both virgins and I bet she's very tight as well – on both sides."

"Can't believe that!" A third voice answered back: "I bet that this cute little lad had already tasted his pretty little lass..."

"Well then, let's find it out, guys!" The first yelled: "Grab hold of them!"

Jack and Caithleen were trapped. There was no way out of this mess and the men caught them both within their firm grip.

They coiled up against the men and Caithleen bit one of them when he placed a hand over her mouth. The supposed leader of the group pushed his companion aside and slapped her: "Don't dare doing this again, little wench."

"Caith!" Jack tried to free himself but they only kept him tighter.

"Quiet, boy! We'll deal with you later. Now we want to have some fun with this little wildcat. To pop a lass' cherry is a seldom pleasure after having spent nearly a year at sea, can tell you that! And this one is not only pretty but young and wild as well..."

"You err, mate!" Jack raised the stakes although he was totally afraid of these guys within his innermost. He added with a contented smirk: "This cherry was mine..." He was prepared for the slap but not for its violence.

"Jack!" Caithleen screamed in pure horror.

"Everything's fine, love!" He replied being not quite sure if he was right this time.

"You're next!" The first man snarled then he grabbed Caithleen with her chin and it felt as if he wanted to break it. The same moment he pressed a rough kiss upon her lips and forced them apart while his hand slipped under her shirt and felt for her breasts. Then all of the sudden he screamed and let her out. He covered his mouth and from his lower lip blood poured over his fingers. Caithleen nearly bit it through.

He slapped her again and hissed: "You will pay for this, lass, I promise. You know, I don't care if you're still a virgin or not and I also don't care if this bonny lad is still a virgin or not! I will take both of you, one after the other or the same time – don't know it by now. And then I'll share you with my companions – the same time..."

"That will do now!" They heard a voice coming from the pier and approaching hastily: "Du balai! Get you gone! Or I will send you all back aboard for this shore leave! Aren't you able to get that this girl is not a whore? Malgracieux! Lubbers! As if there are not enough wenches all around the isle! Well then! Hurry! Allez, allez! Don't stand around here gaping!"

"Aye, captain!" The men gave in and let Jack and Caithleen out then they toddled off without protesting any more.

Jack dragged Caithleen in his arms and they watched how the men vanished amongst the crowd.

"Are you all right, love?"

"Yes! You?"

"Me too..."

They turned round to have a look at the man standing behind them. He was an impressive and wondrous figure.

A long powdered wig covered his head which artfully and skillfully formed artificial curls fell over his shoulders and to his back. His face was covered with white powder as well and on his cheekbone he wore an eye-catching beauty spot. His clothes were made of the most selected fabrics and instead of heavy boots he wore elegant buckled shoes. He rested upon a skillfull carved cane and his whole figure was enwrapped in an intense perfume.

Jack and Caithleen changed a look then he cleared his throat and said: "Thank you, Sir, you saved us from a very special kind of mess."

"A votre service, mon fils!" The man replied indicating a bow: "Capitaine Chevalle! At your service." The French hesitated for a moment then he added: "Tell me, lad, is it possible that we came across each other before?"

Jack winced as if that stranger just hurt him then all of the sudden he got aware that the man was right. They did really come across each other. More than once. At Shipwreck Island...

For sure!

Capitaine Jean-Baptiste Chevalle was one of the nine pirate lords and he visited the fortress of Shipwreck Cove at regular intervals.

Rapidly Jack grasped for Caithleen's hand. He turned towards the French, scratched his head and replied bashfully: "No, Sir, cannot remember where we should have met before. I'm sorry. But excuse us now, we have to leave. We set sail soon and we should not be late, you know. Thanks again, Sir..."

* * *

Two glasses and a bottle of rum within his hands Jack cleaved through the hopelessly crowded tavern. The market-day and about a dozen ships lying for anchor within the bay guaranteed that the taverns and brothels were very well frequented and neither the innkeepers nor the harlots would run the risk of dying from boredom. The seamen, privateers and sailors were well paying guests in every meaning of the word.

The encounter with Chevalle and his men had left Jack thoughtfully for a while. Not only that the French captain saved them from getting raped by his crew members but Jack still wasn't sure if he had recognized him. He couldn't really imagine it but who knew?

If Chevalle did it could turn out to become much more dangerous than he was willing to believe in at the moment.

The French was not really a friend of his father and even if Jack was certain about the fact that Edward Teague didn't really care about what happened to his son it was still all about his reputation as the keeper of the code. And what could be a much better pressurizing medium to challenge said keeper of the code than capturing his son and heir.

Jack still shivered when he thought that he and Caithleen could have ended as the toy of Chevalle's crew. He tried to get rid of that thought – he must! So he squeezed through another two sailors and reached finally the small niche where Caithleen was waiting for him.

He grinned when he saw her sitting there. She was so totally different from the other girls – barmaids and harlots – who were working within the tavern dressed in tight corselets and colorful dresses allowing the men all around to look at their necklines. He couldn't imagine right now to see Caithleen being dressed like that but he had to admit that he was still just a boy and that he still didn't know that much about girls and women. Except one thing – Caithleen wasn't just pretty she was also courageous...

"If anybody would have told me that you're such a wildcat, love, I would have told Patrick he should better throw me back into the open ocean. Never thought that you might bite him. Always thought girls to prefer scratching." Jack gave her a wink while he let himself drop on the bench by her side, placed the glasses in front of them and filled them up to the brim.

Caithleen didn't give him a reply but grasped for her glass instead and emptied it within one draft. Jack stared at her with wide open eyes and caught his breath the same moment when she started coughing. She rolled her eyes and said: "Uh! I fear I will never get used to it. But I have to get rid of the taste this nasty piece of work left on my tongue." She grimaced nauseated and topped up her glass: "Who are those guys?"

"I've no idea, love. Obviously they belong to Chevalle's crew but except of him I never came across one of them before. But I can tell you one thing about him, Caith. Even if he saved our lives and spared us from getting raped he's to take with a pinch of salt. We could name us both lucky ones because that peacock went ashore and was forced to save face. If they would have dragged us aboard his ship we would have ended getting used to amuse the crew and serve them as their whores as long as they stayed at sea..."

"You mean he would have tolerated it that they – touch us?" She shivered while thinking of the idea that they had been very close to such a kind of experience.

"Well, there had been a lot of rumors at Shipwreck isle that his cabin boy and his ship's boy are a bit more than only – that..." Jack said and within his eyes she could see that he felt the same while thinking of it as she.

Convinced that this day couldn't get much worse Jack grasped for the bottle of rum topped up their glasses again and wanted to take a deep draft out of it when he suddenly froze on the spot. What was going on now within the taproom was much worse.

Two figures were discussing with the innkeeper and they were gesturing wildly while showing him again and again a framed miniature. Jack knew them and one of those guys he would have recognized blindfolded and turned a deaf ear.

Underneath his broad brimmed hat there was his face to spot – inscrutable and wily. He nearly had caused his death, to him Jack owed that he lost his ship and he owned the unrestrained trust of his father: Seamus Finch!

Was it by chance that he appeared on the isle today?

Did he know something about the place he – Jack – hid himself?

Actually he was dead certain that no one was supposed to know where Patrick took him to after he pulled him out of the bay but what meaning did 'actually' really have?

He had a look at Caithlen and she got immediately that something was wrong when he said: "We have to make our exit love. Come quickly..."

Caithleen didn't ask him why or what for. She knew she could trust in his feelings and his intuition. More than once she went through such an experience when she got aware how keen his sense was for everything going on around him. Due to this sense he had been able to spare him and others from getting hurt or other severe accidents. So there was no reason to doubt him right here and now.

They just wanted to slip out of the back door when an angry voice yelled after them: "Sparrow! Stand still you lousy toad! Since more than a year you mess around with us! It's time for you to learn that not even you will betray the code unpunished...!"

Jack hesitated for a moment and thought about giving the man a reply but then he decided that this could turn out to be not really a good idea. So he turned round with a shrug and followed Caithleen. As soon as they found themselves within the lane again he grasped her hand and said just one word: "Run!"

So it happened that they ran through the lanes and straight over the squares of the spruce little port a second time that day always hoping that they might stay unchallenged again. All they had to do was to reach the dinghy in time. No one would be able to catch up then anymore.

Their luck did not hold on!

Shortly before they reached the shore and the dinghy a shot cracked and buried into the sand close to their feet: "Don't force me to shoot again, Jack!" Finch pulled out his second pistol and aimed straight at Jack's brow: "I would feel sorry for telling Teague that I had to keep his son from doing something absolutely stupid!"

"Oh bugger", was the only answer Jack was able to reply to Finch within this moment.

Finch beheld him with a broad grin and continued while having a look at Caithleen: "Shove off, lass! This has nothing to do with you! Unless you're hell-bent to share my hospitality with this little bastard!"

"Hospitality?" Jack nearly spat that word out: "To be a visitant aboard your ship means nothing else but to die of starvation while sharing the brig with vermin and rats. Although, if I think it over, I think I would prefer the vermin and the rats if I would have to choose between them and your crew, mate!"

"Now, now! Jack! It's just a few days until we reach Shipwreck Island. Not enough time to die but time enough to prepare for a heartwarming reunion with your father!"

"Mark my words, mate, you can try everything you're able to I won't return to the island with you! Never!" Jack made a step forward which let him come to stand between Finch and Caithleen: "If you want me there's just one way: Come and get me!"

"Who do you think you are, lad? You're not worth the try!" Finch snarled.

He was already willing to shoot when once again one single shot cracked. The bullet grazed Finch's cheek and bounced the pistol out of his hand.

"You want to discuss who's worth a try? For sure you're not, Finch!" It was a calm voice, unimpressed by the Finch's snorting with rage: "Get along with you and take your comrade with you until I'll think it over and send you back to Captain Teague tied up and enwrapped like a present! With kind regards, Mister Finch!"

Jack and Caithleen gazed at each other – the day was supposed to get much worse...

"Patrick!" Jack whispered.

"And Jacobsen!" She replied.

"Well", Jack cleared his throat, raised his gaze and faced Swallow with an uncertain grin: "I'll explain all the matters to you. Aye?"

* * *

"What did you think while doing this?" Patrick gazed from Jack at Caithleen and shook his head in disbelief: "One's willing to believe that not the children of two infamous pirates are standing in front of me at the moment but two outstanding loggerheads!"

He let his hand slip through his hair and put it into a braid again before he went on: "Not only that you stole my dinghy, no! It had to be the market-day you chose for your little foray!"

"But..." Jack made a shy try to answer him.

"I don't want to hear anything from you! Not that it had been by chance that the two of you came across Chevalle and Finch! Not that you're both sorry for it! And nothing else at all! I should throw you into the brig and keep you there for minimum a week! Both of you! Aboard different ships! Wasn't it enough that you're free to do whatever you want to? It was by a hair's breadth that you sold out the passage, the bay and our hideout without even knowing it!

Partick Swallow had Jack and Caithleen taken back aboard the "Silver Stream" after he had ordered to get the dinghy ready to be tugged. Back aboard he had ungently pushed the two youngsters into his cabin. He was angry and this wasn't due to the fact that they took the boat without permission but due to the fact that they got themselves more than once in a situation which almost could have cost their lives.

Patrick let himself drop into one of the chairs standing within his cabin and went on: "You will be both captain of your own ship some day – at least if you'll survive your next adventures. So I want you to think always about one little aspect: Me and Rosalind won't always be there to get you out of a situation like today!"

"Patrick...!" Caithleen as well failed to answer him.

"Oh no, little lass, I'm not willing to remember that you're still children. At least you're old enough to spend a lot of time with finding out if you're fit together aside being full of mischief! Did I make myself clear?"

Patrick Swallow wasn't able to hide a satisfied grin when Jack and Caithleen both blushed up to their ears. Fortunately they knew what it was he wanted to tell them and they were both too sheepish and abashed to realize his smile. Because he didn't want them to catch him by surprise he cleared his throat and added: "We did not reach the end now! I want you to take responsibility for your stupidness so you will start scrubbing the deck tomorrow morning! Both of you! On both ships! Did you get that? And this means also: No sensual nightly expeditions but some daily encounters with bucket, water, soap and brush for about a week!"

When Jack took a deep breath to be able to say something by chance Patrick waved them both to leave: "I've nothing more to say now...!"


	5. 1717 Trapped in dangerous Waters

**Chapter 4: 1717 Trapped in dangerous Waters**

It was late after midnight when the door to the captain's cabin got opened and Bill Turner had a look in.

"Pat?"

Buried amongst uncountable maps and sea charts, a huge stack of books and lots of nautical instruments lying spread all about the room Patrick Swallow sat at his writing desk underneath the windows of the cabin. He was just writing down something within one of his notebooks when he got aware of the sudden draft of fresh air coming from the opened door, causing the candles to flicker which he placed everywhere around and which bathed the room in their soft light.

Patrick raised his head and let go the quill when he recognized who it was who dared to disturb him at this time late at night: "Ah! Bill! Come in, come in, my dear friend. Hope you have some pleasuring news for me. Eh?"

"Barely!" Bill replied: "Although my intentions are only the best as you know." He closed the door and had a curious look at the utter chaos keeping hold of the entire room: "And as I can see you're eagerly searching for a way out of this mess. Or how else shall I understand this very special kind of chaos prevailing within here?"

Patrick just shrugged and threw a bottle of rum over to his first mate: "Don't ask, just drink! It will keep you from some unwanted answers. In addition this will make this situation much more bearable. Don't you think as well...?"

The 'situation' he just talked about was also known as calm and becalmed they were.

Both!

His "Silver Stream" and Rosalind Stevens' "Eagle's Wing". For about more than a week now. On the open ocean too far away from the next shore to reach it, and long enough out at sea to watch how the supplies ran shorter day by day.

The fact that they indeed had stored more than enough rum, but that they at the same moment would suffer from a lack of fresh water soon led at least to the one and only solution they had left. The water got rationed and because of the fact that the rum did not his men found themselves caught within a persisting state of being enjoyably foggy-brained. Just able to keep the ship on a steady course which was due to the lack of a fresh breeze the same senseless than trying to fill a bucket with water while using a mesh.

Up till now Patrick succeeded in keeping his crew busy with some meaningful duties and they had started to work on everything they weren't able to do while sailing through heavy weather or getting mingled into a sea fight. During the first days the men didn't mutter but when day after day passed by without a hint of a change they at least started to show their displeasure. Everyone aboard knew indeed that neither the captain nor the crew was to blame for the calm but for no one knew how long this state would last, they searched for a way to let out their frustration.

Meanwhile the whole deck and the ship's walls got scrubbed and swabbed, the ropes, sails and hammocks got made good, the brig got cleaned and the weapons, the powder and the guns got checked if they were still in good order.

The "Stream" glistered as if she just got launched and while the ship's cook tried to prepare a relishable meal with all he was able to find within the galley, Bill Turner struggled about something totally different – about something having nothing to do with the calm, the running short of fresh water or with everything else belonging to their awkward situation.

He sheepishly scratched the back of his head and started humming and hawing until Patrick finally asked with some boyish grin: "Tell me, Bill, why do I have such a vague feeling that you don't want to talk to me because of the calm or the men's moral? Eh? If it is something important to you let it out otherwise I would be grateful if you would leave me alone again with all you can see within here..."

"It is important and, yes, it's important to me but not necessarily for you as well..."

"Oh, good!" Patrick used the sleeve of his shirt and wiped his brow in played relief then he gave his first mate a wink and said: "So I've not to expect a mutiny then...?"

"No!"

"So, what the hell is it then, mate? Come on, for sure it can't be much worse than the fact to be becalmed and doomed to faineance and to be trapped somewhere in the nowhere. Well then..."

"Elianor!" Bill cleared his throat:" It's about Elianor...!"

"Ah! As I already thought! What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing! But, Pat, you know..."

Patrick looked at him with a smirk then he took a deep draft from out of his bottle and leaned back within his chair.

For sure it was all about Elianor, Bill Turner beautiful and strong-minded lover who obviously preferred to live amongst a band of rough and unwashed pirates than being trapped behind high garden walls, forced to use embroidery hoops instead of grapnels and wanted to join soirees and mime a well educated lady.

He had no other explanation for the fact that she stayed aboard his ship after they had dropped the survivors of the shipwreck she belonged to at Tortuga – instead of she and Bill fell for each other when they came across each other for the first time.

Patrick had no doubt that she was the daughter of a well known and reputed family. The way she used to speak, her attitude and of course her noble paleness had told their own story back then.

Nowadays she looked like a piratess to the core. Her honey colored hair made up a very delicate contrast to her tanned skin and her big blue eyes used to shimmer out of her also tanned face.

She had not needed long to get used to sword, cutlass and pistol but her most dangerous weapon was still her keen mind. Her tactical skills and her talent to negotiate in a way that in the end no one was quite sure anymore whose idea it really had been not to scuttle each other spared the "Silver Stream" more than once from ending up at Davy Jones' Locker throughout the bygone years.

Elianor and Bill shared a spruce mansion at close range to the harbor and the tavern and equal to the fact that they weren't married up till now there was no one all around the hidden bay who doubted that they belonged to each other.

Patrick and the crew accepted it without asking questions and whoever came across the young woman greeted her with that kind of respect which did not end up in a mockery but was meant true and honest. In addition Elianor was very well able to match the crew if it came to swearing or fighting...

And so it happened that Patrick himself answered his question: "Well then, Bill, admit it till we all will die from thirst, sunstroke or madness. You're willing to take your pretty little English lass to become respectable Madam Turner. Am I right? Eh?"

"You know that most of the men think that we already..."

"Don't care about something like that, lad! We don't have a cleric aboard who's constantly around you preaching you a sermon because you're not!"

"No, but a captain who's allowed to marry us."

"Very well then, Bill Turner, I promise that I'll marry you and your bonny lass as soon as we got out of this mess we're sitting in at the moment and that we'll have a proper feast as soon as we'll return to our island. Will this answer your question?"

"Aye, captain!" Bill replied with a somehow contented grin.

* * *

With the break of dawn fog came up and when Jack came to the deck to turn the hourglass and to ring the bell there was nothing to spot anymore but a thick, tight white wall where the night before the "Silver Stream" could have been spotted although she drifted within visual and hearing range. He raised his head but not even the crow's nest of the "Wing" was to spot anymore.

Jack shivered within the cold and clammy air he felt himself surrounded by but he didn't want Jacobsen to notice it who just sashayed over to him now.

"Eerie, isn't it, lad?"

The versed sailor got tossed – if due to the coldness or to hide his growing discomfort wasn't easy to say. But he was right. Except of their own damped voices and the silent gurgling of the waves no other sound was to hear all around the place. Nearly as if the dense mist wanted to prevent that another sound reached them coming from the "Stream" or – vice versa – that a sound coming from the "Wing" reached Patrick and his crew.

"I've a very bad feeling about this." Jack whispered: "We should run out the oars and make our exit as fast as possible!"

"Oh dear, son", Jacobsen looked at him in amusement: "if we would always follow our feelings we would miss a lot of proper preys and we would have to do a lot. Don't you think as well?"

"Mister Jacobsen, don't make me a fool. Before your eyes I might be still just a boy but that does not make me a chump the same moment. I assure you something's definitely wrong and we should ready the ship for a sea fight!"

Jacobsen cocked an eyebrow and furrowed his brow. This lad was wonderful with being a problem equal what he would do. Rosalind Stevens would throw him overboard if he would raise an alarm and let the men man the stations and it should turn out as having been in vain. The same would apply if he decided to ignore a situation like this because he supposed it to be no danger and they would get attacked out of the nothing in the end.

So he mumbled something which Jack wasn't able to understand.

"Bad conscience?" He grinned instead.

"No", the older man snarled at him: "I'm not quite sure what to do."

"That's easy, mate. All you have to do is going below, waking up Roaslind and inform her about everything we talked about just before. I'll take your watch until you're back."

"Don't do anything stupid, lad! Mark my words!"

With it Jacobsen vanished in the direction of the captain's cabin. It was just after he went below when a silent gurgle was to hear somewhere in front of them.

Jack wasn't sure if he could really trust his senses for the sound did not recur and he still wasn't able to spot anything around him for the fog seemed to get thicker and more and more dense. It was impossible to make out a move or anything else.

When he wasn't able to forget about his bad feeling and when Jacobsen did not return as well he decided to talk to Rosalind himself.

Rapidly he went down the steps leading to her cabin, had a short knock and went in without waiting for her reply. Rosalind waved him to come closer. Her face showed a stern expression and she stared at her sea charts as if they could tell her what to do next.

Her long black hair surrounded her like a cloud while she stuffed her shirt into her pants and covered her face tiredly with her hands for a moment. For a split second she resembled Caithleen that much that she could be named her older sister.

Jack cleared his throat and remarked: "Something's going on outside..."

Jacobsen shot him a glare: "Keep quiet! The boy is spotting ghosts ma'am. There is nothing outside but us, the sea, this goddamn fog and the fancifulness of this young fellow..."

"Jack?" Rosalind gazed at him inquiring: "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

He did not hesitate any longer, pushed past Jacobsen and had a look at the sea charts himself. His eyes widened in disbelief when he got aware their coordinates marking their momentarily position: "These are our bearings at the moment?"

"Why do you ask?" Rosalind's skepticism calmed down the more confident he got and she added: "I marked them yesterday evening."

"And there is no doubt about it?"

"No, lad, except the usual imprecisions due to the waves and the ship's moves."

"Then we should make our exit immediately. The most inconspicuously as possible, as silent as possible and as fast as possible..."

"Won't you be willing to explain why?" Jacobsen crossed his arms in front of his chest and changed a look with Rosalind.

"Because, Mister Jacobsen, this is exactly the position where a fresh water well is to find." Jack pointed at a little spot within the chart being marked only a few miles away from their actual position and went on: "It's the only well within a circle of miles which means that every vessel sailing within these waters and being in need for fresh water will without fail call at this isle. Savvy? Merchants, pirates, privateers and not to forget the King's Navy. We're lying exactly on their route and if we won't take our leave soon as long as the fog covers our withdrawal we'll become an easy prey. Can tell you this, mate."

"Where from will you know this, son?"

"Well, it's true that I did not sail under the command of Edward Teague very often, but – trust me, mate – if I did my father came right to this isle to store fresh water if he wanted to hunt for a prey. Trust in me or leave it, Sir, but don't hesitate any longer to make a decision." Jack gazed at Jacobsen then at Rosalind: "Captain?"

She nodded: "Well then, let's make a try to leave these waters. Who will take care that the "Stream" comes to know it?"

They had no time left to think it over any longer who of them would warn Patrick and the "Silver Stream" when the cry came from the crow's nest: "Ship ahead! Hard to port!"

The same moment the alarm bell got rung.

Like out of the nothingness a ship approached. Nearly soundless it slipped to a position which lay exactly between the "Wing" and the "Stream" and doing so it prevented that the two pirates were able to get what was going on. And the aggressor made no secret of his attentions.

When Jack, Rosalind and Jacobsen reached the deck the first salvo hit the water surface next to the "Wing".

"Hitting the aim by startling the opponent!" Jacobsen hissed: "They are testing from out of which distance they're able to get us without getting harmed themselves. Damn! Their captain must be up to every trick!"

"Mister Jacobsen, that will be enough! I'm not a loggerhead as well! So don't hang around here wasting your breath! Let the men ready the guns and man the stations. Hurry!" Rosalind yelled.

She ran across the whole deck, jumped up the steps leading to the helm and pushed the man aside who was waiting for her order. With a firm grip she took the helm and tried to bring the "Wing" around being very well in the know that this was supposed to be a rather unnecessary try without only the slightest breeze. And she had no men left to let them take the oars.

One of her cannoneers stumbled up to the helm: "Captain, which target shall we shoot at? There's nothing to spot at all!"

"What are you? Landlubbers or pirates? If there is nothing to spot align the guns after the sound of theirs. And if this does not work try to come up with something else except you want to get scuttled together with our good old nutshell and end up within Davy Jones' Locker!"

"Aye, captain!"

"And you? What's with you, Jack Sparrow?" She gazed at him: "Why are you still here? Want you to search for Caithleen. She shall prepare a broadside and I want you to help her with it. Although she's used to it this case seems to be a little different. And I don't want to see both of you on the deck. Got me, son?"

"But Rose..."

"No back talk, Jack! I don't want to see both of you up here! That's an order! Got me?"

Jack did not dare to answer back any more. Up till today their trips had been more or less harmless but this was totally different. They did neither know who their aggressor was nor which intentions he had in mind. Only one thing was dead certain – that he was hell-bent to send the "Wing" and the "Stream" down to the depths. And that he for sure was glad to be able to act from out of such a perfect backing due to this bloody fog.

* * *

Jack did not know how much time passed by since the first balls smashed into the "Wing" but it could not be long ago.

When he found Caithleen below she was already busy with preparing a broadside and a grin enlightened his face when he kept taps on her. She was really a pirate lass.

No!

She was his pirate lass.

Meanwhile the fog got bit by bit replaced by gun smoke, fume and smolder and the skull and crossbones hang motionless at the main mast.

When the "Wing" got hit and shaken by another salvo, Jack dragged Caithleen with him into a quiet corner of the cannon deck. He had a rapid look around and what he saw did not please him. They had already lost too many men and guns to wait any longer for an upcoming breeze. Amongst wreckage and debris lay wounded and dead and their screams and moans got drowned by the riot coming from the deck.

Jack gazed at Caithleen. Her face was covered with smut and dirt and a thin trickle of blood ran down her neck. She looked exhausted but she wasn't willing to give in. Together they had tried to help the wounded but mostly their skills were not good enough to do much more but the most necessary.

They started to feel helpless due to the mess and the loss of lives, due to the smell of death, powder, burning wood and blood.

"I have to do something." Jack explained to her: "I have to talk to Rosalind again! Will you get on with this until I'm back?" He gently stroked her cheek and dragged her in his arms.

She was alive and her warmth felt so pleasurable.

Caithleen only nodded and he went on: "I cannot look on helplessly how the ship and our crew will perish."

"I trust in you..."

"I'll be back as soon as possible." He breathed a kiss upon her lips and had a deep look into her eyes then he searched for some weapons amongst the dead. He found a handful of pistols, a suitable sword and some cutlasses, took what he needed and hurried up to the deck.

He wasn't prepared for what he found up there. A barrel of tar did keel over and its content – spread round the whole deck – caught fire. The flames immersed the whole scenery in an eerie play of shadow and light and the fog still absorbed enough sounds that the sight appeared unreal and haunting.

Jack stumbled, slipped and wasn't able anymore to prevent falling. Too late he realized that it was a puddle of blood which made him slip and that it was a dead body which let him stumble. It was the man who kept watch up at the crow's nest. The continuing salvos must have tossed him out of the nest and smashed him to the deck. Jack had to fight his rising nausea when he got aware the sight.

If these were still just the losses of lives and the damage they sustained due to the balls smashing into the "Wing" what was supposed to happen to them if the adverse crew would prepare to board?

He had no answer to it, he didn't want an answer to it. All he wanted was to bring it to an end.

But before he was able to do anything else another ball came whizzing and smashed into the "Wing" somewhere below the helm.

Somewhere behind him he heard a familiar voice yell: "Captain! Rosalind! You have to stay awake!"

Jacobsen!

And Rosalind!

"Bugger!" Jack managed to stumble to his feet with some effort. He was covered with blood being not his own, smeared with tar and smut and he felt growing weak.

The ship groaned and moaned while he cleaved up to the helm and while he was on his way he was able to catch a look at their opponent. It was a warship, an English warship with its black and yellow hull but as far as I could see there were no soldiers aboard.

"Buccaneers!" He whispered to himself: "Privateers in the name of the King!"

He had not enough time to wonder about it because when he reached the helm his whole attention belonged to Rosalind.

The smash of the latest ball tore her from her feet and buried her underneath debris and a chest where they normally kept grapnels, cutlasses and amutition within. Her leg got screwed down under it and while Jacobsen tried to get rid of the debris with bare hands he raised his head just to see Jack falling down on his knees beside him: "What are you doing here, lad?"

Before Jack could give him a reply he felt Rosalind's hand grabbing his arm with some astonishing strength: "No need to send him away, mate. Let him stay."

Her voice sounded flat and it took her great effort just to think. The pain she suffered from must be nearly unbearable and when Jack had a look into her face he saw that it was covered with cuts and scratches. Her shoulder got speared by a sharp splint and the wrist of her left hand seemed to be broken. The worst sight was indeed her leg. It got torn open by several splints and got broken like slivered glass. Blood poured out of the wound and she got visibly paler.

Nevertheless the grip she held Jack's arm with was determined and firm. She looked directly into his eyes and said: "You'll help Jacobsen to get rid of this bloody chest and then you'll take command."

Jack shook his head shocked by what he just heard but Rosalind forced him to lock eyes with her: "You will take command, Jack Sparrow! You're in charge now! I'm barely able to do it as you can see. So I'm not willing to discuss about my decision!" Her pale face seemed to turn much more pale again: "Bring us out of here, Jack. Save the crew and the ship – at least what remains of both. I know you can make it..."

"Aye, captain!"

"And, Jack, I don't care about the how! Got me? You're the captain of the "Eagle's Wing now. Your ship, your decisions..."

With this she lost consciousness.

Jack did not hesitate any longer and prepared to fulfill her order. He ordered Jacobsen to take her below then he jumped down the stairs and hastened over the deck. Once again he hurried down the steps leading to the cannon deck and as soon as he found Caithleen he started to explain: "Rosalind got hurt. I'm in charge now. So, Caithleen, please listen what I'm telling you now. Load the guns with everything we have left. Prepare another broadside and wait for my order. I've not enough time left to give you some more details. Just trust me, love."

He was already on his way up to the deck again when he still heard Caithleen's order below then he was in need for his senses again to be able to fulfill Rosalind's wish. The adverse crew prepared to board and the first grapnels got swung into the rigging and over the rail.

"All hands to the deck!" He heard himself yell: "Who's not busy with the guns prepare to fight! Cut the ropes and keep these bloody scalawags at a distance! They want to take the ship as a prize for the Crown and us for the gallows! They are privateers! If you love your freedom send them down to the Locker!"

Rosalind's crew gazed at him in astonishment first then the men followed his words with growing enthusiasm. He gave them back a spark of hope to vanquish this enemy from out of the nothingness.

"Listen to me!" Jack went on: "Your captain trusts in you and so do I! Go and get them and get your prize! For Rosalind Stevens!"

The same moment chaos broke loose when the crews of both ships lunged at each other.

Jack got aware that Jacobsen came out of the captain's cabin. He grasped the man with his sleeve and dragged him with him: "Tell me, mate, are you able to set their sails into flames? If the "Stream" did not get notice of what's going on here yet she will do if Patrick will see the flames. I've not the slightest idea how long we can make stand against this enemy but without Patrick it won't last long anymore."

"Aye! I agree! I'll try my very best!"

"Good man!"

"Jack!" Jacobsen held him back: "Good luck, son!"

They both vanished to opposite directions and Jack just wanted to give the order for the prepared broadside when a voice sounded over the deck of the "Wing": "Where's your captain, you pitiful landlubbers? This wreck must be supposed to have a captain, mustn't it? C'mon, you coward! Face me that I can take you over to England! It's one rotten pirate less within these waters when if you'll dance with the wind!"

"You're nothing different, I think!" Jack grasped for a rope and swung over the whole deck to come to stand right in front of that puzzled stranger: "Well, if I think it over again I've to admit that there is one difference at all between you and me. I'm a pirate and you're a privateer. I scuttle ships for my own pleasure while you're scuttling them for the King's pleasure. Aren't you ashamed of doing so, mate? Eh?"

"Listen to me carefully, lad: Want you to step out of my way! I'm not indenting to do any harm to you. All I want is your captain!"

"I'm sorry, mate, as it seems I'm supposed to be the captain of my vessel and I don't believe that I'm willing to accompany you on your trip back to England. No offense meant, mate, but, I'm sorry that I've to say that, it's better for you and your crew if you'll make your exit now!"

The other burst out laughing: "You're great, lad. As it turns out you own a strange sense of humor!" He got stern the same moment: "But I don't! Take me to your captain or..."

"Or? You're going to kill me then?" Jack grinned: "Enjoy yourself, mate!"

With a rapid and fluid move he dragged his sword and lunged at the stranger.

Both blades clashed at each other with some tremendous impact while Jack managed to slip through the strikes of his opponent again and again, jumped over them or ducked down from them.

On the whole deck of the "Eagle's Wing" the men fight for their lives and their ship and Jack felt himself growing weak strike by strike. Sweat ran down his brow into his eyes and his strength already started to leave him when he finally got aware that the sails of their enemy's ship burst into flames. He got that captivated by that sight that he nearly lost sight of the pistol his opponent aimed at him with. The shot cracked and he escaped it within just a hair's breadth.

"Missed!" He taunted and then everything happened the same moment.

Jack used this one single moment the stranger was distracted and he yelled: "Caithleen! Do it now! Fire!"

Just a split second later the salvo hit the foreign ship and the "Wing" broke free.

Within the same moment it sounded like an echo when a ghost ship appeared out of the still dense fog firing out of all cannons. It was the "Stream" and she came alongside to their enemy.

Caught by her sight Jack had nearly forgotten about his opponent. This was when the other slapped him violently and he collapsed to the deck. Barely with conscious he got aware how the stranger built up over him. Then a white hot pain ran through his body as if it wanted to tear him into pieces when the stranger pushed his blade into his shoulder that deep that it speared it and got stuck within the planks of the deck. Jack heard himself scream and tears welled up within his eyes while he felt his blood running down his shoulder, soaking his shirt and the ground below him.

The stranger laughed a dirty laugh and like looking through a thin veil Jack noticed that he grasped for another blade. He let himself down on one knee at Jack's side grasped him with his hair forcing the boy to face him: "And now, captain, I will pin you to the deck with another blade and then I will watch how your young life will leave you, how you will bleed to death, how your breath will ebb away and how your gaze will finally break. I enjoy the moment when life leaves a human body, especially if it is as young as yours..."

He wasn't able anymore to finish his perfidious plan. A shot cracked and before Jack drifted away into a merciful fainting he was convinced that it was Bill Turner who saved him...


	6. 1717 Those three Things I really love

**Chapter 5: 1717 Those three things I love!**

Jack woke up due to a painful pulsing coming from his shoulder. It increased when he carefully tried to move and he felt nausea rising within him so he decided to stay calm. Through his half closed eyelids he got aware that someone moved within the room he obviously had slept in.

He tried to remember what happened but his memories came to him only in pieces. Nevertheless one thing was clear – he found himself neither on the deck of a ship nor within his narrow berth belonging to his little cabin aboard the "Eagle's Wing". Much less it was a hammock somewhere within the crew's quarters.

No!

For sure he did not find himself aboard a ship, not to mention at sea. This room he stayed in must belong to a house or a cottage ashore because the swaying was missing.

Someone must have drawn the curtain aside and the same someone must have opened the little window. There was a scent of roses and jasmine in the air and a light breeze carried the smell of the sea over from the open ocean. Both got mingled with another fragrance coming from fresh baked bread and a beverage Patrick brought along from one of his preys along the South and Central American shores – coffee...

Gotten curious he finally opened his eyes just to see a figure sitting by his side whose friendly gray eyes gazed at him full of fondness and her smile was much more able than every scent or smell to let him regain his spirits.

Caithleen sat close to him on his bed her legs crossed, her hands laxly resting within her lap: "Welcome back amongst the living."

She leaned back against the foot of his bed and smiled in amusement when she got aware of his puzzled mien: "Do you feel better then?"

"Of course, love", he replied not willing to admit that he still felt weak and sore: "Why should I not, eh?"

Being a bit high-spirited and willing to prove to her that he was strong enough to get up he tried to sit up. The same moment a white-hot pain ran through his body when he wanted to lean on his hand and when it gave in due to his weight. With a silent sound of pain he sank back into the cushions.

"Oi!" Jack grimaced and added through gritted teeth: "Maybe I don't yet, eh...?"

Caithleen shook her head and grinned: "You should not overdo at the moment. After all you needed nearly two weeks to claw back to life. We already thought the fever would burn you from inside out. You had no want to eat and we even had to force you to drink."

From one moment to the next she was totally stern when she gazed at him: "You seemed already to be marked with death and I feared I could lose you, Jack Sparrow..."

"What happened?" Slowly it came to him that there really were just pieces he were able to remember: that they got attacked out of the nothingness, that Rosalind trusted him her ship and her crew, that she got heavily hurt, that he tried to fight against the unknown enemy and that a weird stranger wanted to watch him die...

Jack shivered and he closed his eyes for a while. When he opened them again there was shown the horror within them he felt while thinking of this moment instead of relief about the fact that he was still alive.

Caithleen bent over to him and caressed his cheek: "Bill Turner found you and this eerie fellow just when he wanted to push a second blade through your other shoulder. He shot him but it was almost too late. When Bill brought you aboard the "Stream" you lost consciousness and you also suffered from a heavy loss of blood. Patrick was not convinced that you would make it back together with us to our island. Rosalind lost half of her men and the "Wing" won't be able to set sail for a while. So it wasn't quite certain that we would wake up together within our chamber today."

Jack lowered his head: "She should not have named me captain." This time he succeeded in sitting up using is sound arm to support himself. His shoulder still seemed to be aflame but he carefully touched the white linen they had used to dress it: "I failed!"

"No" Caithleen disagreed: "Rosalind is still convinced that she made the right decision. She's proud of you, Jack. She believes that without you she would have lost her whole crew and her ship..."

"She's alive then..." Jack's face brightened up when he smiled a smile of relief.

"Yes, you loveable fool, she is. Apart from black and blue marks all around her body, countless cuts and scratches, her broken wrist and her broken leg she seems to feel fine. However", she gave him a knowing smile: "it will take a while until she and Patrick will keep us company again up here within our little cottage."

"Means...?"

"Jack Sparrow, normally you own a keen mind so you won't make me believe that you're not in the know about what this means, won't you?"

"Love, think it over, two weeks within the claws of death, neither dead nor alive. Don't you think as well that there could be something inside my innermost which could have sustained heavy damage. Eh?" Jack cocked his head and gave her a wink.

Caithleen rolled her eyes and he added rapidly: "Then it means the cottage is ours as long as they stay aboard the "Stream"? Aye?"

"That is exactly what it means! Oh, and no one will come to hear what will go on up here means no one will care about anything I will do to you – or with you – if you'll go on driving me mad..."

"Who? I? Impossible, love!" His dark eyes were shimmering within the morning sun and his smile told its own story. Finally he whispered: "There is only one way, Caithleen Stevens, I would say it's of use to me to drive you mad. It's the same you already used to drive me mad more than once since we know each other. And I can assure you, lass, it will be of no meaning to me if anybody would be able to hear us while I'm doing it..."

He grinned when he got aware that she blushed up to her hairline. Somehow bashful she averted her gaze and thereby she realized the tablet upon the little nightstand standing between their beds. Jack let his gaze follow hers and within a wink of time he got aware that he was hungry.

The bread was still warm, and the fresh butter, the honey and the smell of fresh brewed coffee did their part as well to let him feel ahungered. That was why he asked: "Tell me, love, did you carry all this up here because you want us not to have enough while watching it or am I allowed to eat from it as well? Eh?"

Caithleen laughed: "It's all yours..."

Rapidly she grasped the tablet and placed it between them on the bed then she crossed her legs again and and kept taps on Jack.

They kept silent while they were eating but Jack wasn't able to take his eyes off of her. She looked tired and he asked himself if she really meant 'we' when she told him that they tried to make him eat and drink or if it should actually be 'she' tried it. Nevertheless he was glad that she was with him when he woke up.

When she placed the tablet back on the nightstand shortly after he grasped her hand and dragged her over to him. Some drops of honey still stuck to her fingers and he had a deep look into her eyes when he led them to his lips and started to kiss the sweet delights away from them with pleasure.

Caithleen leaned over to him and their gazes melted. Jack still held her hand and dragged her closer not thinking of the pain coming from his shoulder. His fingers traced the fine lines of her face and they stroked her cheek until he buried them within her hairline. Their lips found each other and they melted into a kiss. Gentle first then deeper always thinking of not moving too abruptly. They weren't able to bear it very long then their kiss got deeper and much more passionate.

They were both panting for air when they finally broke the kiss but their eyes kept hold of each other unwilling to let this sweet moment pass by so rapidly.

Without saying a word Jack pushed the blanket aside and Caithleen got him immediately. She hesitated just for a split second until she crept under the blanket by his side. He wrapped his arm round her tender waist and held her close while she buried her head within his sound shoulder and nestled up against him.

Somewhen later he whispered next to her ear: "Do you know what it was I thought when that weird fellow told me that he wanted to watch me die? I wasn't afraid of death itself. What really scared me was to know that I would die and that the last thing I would see on earth would be the gaze of that stranger. He enjoyed it, Caithleen, he really enjoyed it..."

The memory let him shiver and he dragged her closer again: "Remaining alone within this moment felt as if someone tried to tear my soul out of my body..."

~oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~

A few weeks later the idyllic bay where Patrick Swallow and Rosalind Stevens found shelter many years ago and built up their secret hideout seemed to buzz with excitement. The spruce houses of the whole settlement got graced and ornamented with flowers and colored ribbons. The lanes got cleaned up and everything looked tidy and inviting.

The same applied to all the ships and boats lying for anchor within the bay. The masts of the "Wing" and the "Stream" were flagged over their tops and both ships were decorated with flowers and ribbons as well. The skull and crossbones remained lowered today. No one had in mind to leave for a prey...

The damage the "Eagle's Wing sustained during the attack of that eerie and unknown opponent got mostly mended up till now and as soon as her captain would be able again to return aboard she would set sail.

Until it was as far as Patrick and Rosalind chose the "Silver Stream" as their home instead of their little cottage high above the bay. Rosalind still wasn't able to strain her leg and as long as it would not be totally healed her and Patrick knew that Jack and Caithleen would enjoy this little present of staying alone within the cottage. In addition there was no reason to betray them of this pleasure at all then obviously there was much more which bound them together but their being curious about each other.

The reason for the hustle and bustle all around the bay was indeed something totally different. Patrick had in mind to honor the promise he gave Bill Turner on this beautiful summer day. He wanted to make use of his right as the captain of a ship to finally marry his first mate and his bonny lass. And so it happened that the announced festivity caught the attention of the whole settlement and that all of its inhabitants seemed to be beside themselves.

Patrick decided to use old rituals. Those old rituals fishermen and sailors used for ages to invoke the blessing of the sea and the winds for their trips and journeys round the seven seas and they did not miss their impression when Patrick used them to invoke the blessing for Bill Turner and his adorable bride Elianor Cole.

Jack and Caithleen decided to stay apart from the ceremony. They sat upon a quay wall and watched the spectacle from out of a certain distance. It did to them that the wind carried Patrick's words over to them.

In the face of the breathtaking surroundings and the wild beauty of the landscape the bay found itself within they seemed to include something magical. Something which let no one untouched and unimpressed.

Nevertheless it seemed as if Jack's thoughts were wandering about on another place but the bay. Since his encounter with that weird stranger who seemed to have been the captain of that foreign vessel something had changed within him. Nearly as if he lost a part of his lightheartedness. And although the wound got already healed it seemed as if something different remained within him.

Mostly he was to find sitting upon the cliffs high above the bay while staring at the sea. His gaze got lost somewhere on the horizon and longing got reflected within his eyes. It was the same gaze he looked at her with when she lay in his arms – breathless, panting for air, covered with sweat after they had tried out which else pleasure they could cause each other though.

Longing got mirrored within his eyes, longing, restlessness and desire and a hint of pain which he desperately but in vain tried to hide from her.

Caithleen leaned back against his chest and let him wrap his arms around her. She knew that the day was close when she had to make a decision – between leading a life at sea together with him or leading a life ashore without him.

And even if she already knew which life she wanted to live she hoped that this day would stay away a bit longer.

"What are the two of you waiting for, eh?" A familiar voice dragged them both out of their daydreams. Patrick stood in front of them – his hands rested upon his hips – and gazed at them with a knowing smile. Within eyes there was a queer sparkling to spot and there was no doubt that this day caused him lots of pleasure.

Using his head he pointed towards the tavern and went on: "This is supposed to become a long night because it's dead certain that our dear Bill Turner is not interested in knowing the whole crew of the "Stream" to stand around him and his pretty Elianor within his wedding night. But if he doesn't mind you should both keep a weather eye on it because for sure there are some positions I bet you've not tried out up till now."

Jack and Caithleen changed a half scared and half abashed look and when they both blushed up to their hairlines Patrick burst out laughing: "Oh dear, as it seems this shot into the blue hit its aim! But to be honest you're not always very quiet if you're up in your chamber..."

With it he wrapped one arm round Caithleen's shoulder the other round Jack's and said while they went over to the tavern: "Better don't mind it. If there should go anything wrong some day there will be some pretty little ones I bet..."

~oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~

The tavern was crowded to the brim with all those who wanted to celebrate with the young couple and those who were just fond of a proper drinking bout.

Beside the bar sat a handful of musicians using bodhrán, flute, fiddle and mandolin to play dances and to keep the whole companionship in good humor while singing drinking songs and shanties.

From out of the kitchen it smelled from all those allurements being able to please the palatine with their tastes and rum and beer poured out of the barrels without any disruption.

The taproom was filled with dancers and laughter resounded within the whole establishment while in the rear part of the tavern the men told each other cock-and-bull stories of terrifying beasts from the deep sea, of enchanting but deadly sirens, of storms, preys, vanquished opponents and what else ever came to their mind and being worth to be told on a day like this.

"Hand me two fresh beakers of beer please, Master Blake!" Caithleen stumbled towards the counter, her cheeks reddened and her brow sweaty.

She panted for air and replaced her bandana. It had taken her some effort to cleave through the taproom and to avoid all those desirous looks and touches several men tried to catch her attention with.

"Miss Caith! Don't you think as well that you already had enough tonight?" The innkeeper beheld her from her head down to her shoes and back.

"I'm not drunk, Master Blake, I just enjoyed dancing!" She interrupted herself, thought about something and added: "Well, perhaps you're right and I'm a little bit drunk, But it's not due to your beer, you know..."

"No, Miss, I already got that. It's due to that pretty lad Patrick brought here some years ago, am I right?"

"Yep! You are!"

"Well then, I would say you're not in need for two fresh beakers of beer any more, Miss Caith. You better should follow him then."

"Why?" Caithleen frowned.

"Because your young companion made his exit while you were dancing."

"Did he say where he wanted to go?"

"No he did not, only that you're in the know where to find him if you would want to search for him."

"I understand! Well then you should better hand me a bottle of rum. And don't tell anybody where they can find us."

"For I'm not in the know where the two of you will be to find I seem to be barely able to tell anybody anything?" The innkeeper grinned when he handed the bottle over to her. He gave her a wink and she sneaked out of the back door.

Meanwhile it got dark outside. A starlit full moon night.

~oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~

He sat upon the cliffs like Caithleen expected him to. A slender silhouette against the pale moonlight, his arms wrapped around his knees and his brow bedded upon them. He did not move and only his steady breathes told her that he was real.

She rapidly got out of her shoes and continued on her way with bare feet. The cliffs were overgrown with moss and grass up here and only once in a while she stepped on small stones while she climbed up the narrow path.

When Jack got aware of the move behind him he turned round. He reached out his hand and dragged Caithleen down beside him when she took it. He didn't say a word but the shimmer within his eyes told her that he was glad to feel her by his side.

Below them the waves rolled to the shore and broke at the foot of the cliffs. Their steady whoosh sounded like the breath of the sea and it was filled with lots of stories being totally different from everything the men within the tavern told each other.

The waves told them about new adventures, about undiscovered islands and treasures being hidden within the deep depths. They told them about magical creatures, about secrets and riddles waiting to be solved and about lost cultures and civilizations. And they promised a life in freedom far away from all those rules and bonds enchaining every longing and every wish of staying free to the land.

The mild light coming from the full moon and the stars got broken and reflected by the sea and the waves and it seemed as if the ocean and the sky merged inseparably at the horizon.

"Did you ever ask yourself what might lie behind the horizon, love?" Jack pointed at that spot where it wasn't to say anymore where the sky ended and the sea began: "I mean something must be hidden there, something different, something no seachart is able to lead us to. Don't you agree?"

"You mean those old stories about mermaids, ghost ships and legendary treasures? The fairy tale about eternal life and immortality?"

"Aye, love, that's exactly what I had in mind. Imagine what we will be able to explore as soon as we'll have a ship on our own some day..."

"Eternity?" Caithleen asked without being able to hide a grin.

"Why not? The immortal Captain Jack Sparrow! What do you think? Doesn't sound so bad. Eh?" He grinned and as many times before she felt disarmed and in a very strange and adorable way overwhelmed.

She beheld him and she felt how a wave of warmth and affection ran through her veins. He was a dreamer but she loved his dreams and she – loved him...

Was this what Rosalind and Patrick felt for each other? The feeling of never again wanting to be without the other?

Jack had changed since they met each other for the first time, much more since the attack on the "Wing". The slender boy had become a bonny young man...

His narrow face was tanned and it got dominated by his soft brown eyes with its long dark lashes. They lay underneath a pair of fine lined eyebrows and within this moment they mirrored the full moon and the stars. A first hint of a well kept beard surrounded his pretty mouth with its fine carved lips and his dark curls, which he tried to tame underneath a bandana for several months now and which highlighted his delicate chiseled features more than favorably, meanwhile reached his shoulders.

Caithleen did not know if he was aware of his beauty but if not he the more was she.

She wrapped one of his curls round her fingers and asked: "Why did you leave?"

"I wanted to stay alone" he admitted without hesitating: "and I hoped you would follow me, love."

"Here I am..."

"Yes, here you are." He reached out his hand and started gently to caress her cheek: "And I'm glad that you are." His gaze wandered down her face as if he just came to know her today and suddenly he added with a low and hoarse voice: "Are you actually aware how beautiful you are, Caithleen Stevens?"

"I..."

Using the backside of his fingers he struck her hair from her brow and traced the fine lines of her face, then he let them slip over her lips to finally lift her chin until their gazes met.

Her gray eyes were dark and filled with her longing for his soft touch, her lips slightly open. A single invitation, a promise...

Jack breathed a first feathery kiss upon her lips then a second. She tasted of sweet wine and candied rose petals and while his fingers buried within her hair he used his free hand to drag her closer. His kiss started to get more and more demanding and passionate and while she let it happen that her lips parted under his kiss she closed her eyes and surrendered to those feelings he was able to arouse within her.

Caithleen's hands slid down his shoulders and his back until they reached his hips. Her fingers tore at his shirt until they were able to slip under it and until she was able to feel his soft, warm skin. He winced when she carefully touched the scar upon his shoulder but it went over as soon as it happened.

Without letting her out or breaking the kiss his hands felt for her belt and loosened it and the same moment it happened that his slender fingers left a trace of torrid heat upon her chilled skin while they searched for their way up her tender body until they reached the bandage she used to wear underneath her shirt.

"Admit it, love, that this is an annoying piece of cloth", he whispered next to her ear, his cheek nestled close against hers, and started to fond the tip of her ear.

Caithleen inhaled sharply when his hand found its way under her bandage and when he started to caress the soft skin of her youthful breasts. A sigh full of relish escaped her lips and her body reacted instinctively to his touch, pushed against him and presented itself to him and his growing desire.

Jack beheld her – the same enthused and still astonished how intense and passionate she seemed to feel him. She let it happen that he freed her from her shirt and her bandage and to his surprise she lay herself down into the soft moss in front of his eyes.

The mild moonlight silvered her slender figure and she looked like having escaped from an enchanting dream. Alluring and innocent the same moment and equal if they all still treated them like children he was very well aware of what it was he felt for the girl lying here in front of him within his arms.

He desired her, longed for the feeling to keep her close, to touch her soft skin when they melted into each other, when he could be that close to her like no one else and when he felt himself enclosed by her warmth and tightness barely daring to move.

Impatiently he tried to get rid of his shoes and his shirt and he enjoyed it to bend over her as slowly as he was able to and to cover her lips once again with a deep kiss. Deep, sweet, lovingly indeed but the same filled with lust and desire.

Caithleen let her head sink into the moss and while Jack covered her brow, her cheeks and her neck with kisses he tried at once to free her from the last piece of cloth still covering her skin. He smiled when she raised her hips to make it easier for him to help her out of her pants with more or less skilled fingers.

"I better should have searched for a lady, lass, that kind of girl wearing dresses and skirts", he teased her.

"Would have been better – without any doubt..." Caithleen replied with a grin...

She sat up and her fingers answered his astonished look when they started to open the riband holding his pants closed. Caithleen lay down again and she enjoyed his puzzled mien when she let her foot stroke down his legs while pulling off his pants, meaning the last restarint keeping him from taking what he desired most within this moment.

His revenge was sweet and his eyes darkened from passion when he bent down on her again to kiss her fierce and keenly. Her lips were reddened when he broke the kiss and let his own wander down her tender body again until he reached the delicate tips of her breasts. He enjoyed hearing Caitheen sigh and moan under his touch and he enjoyed when she raised her hips and when hers met his a bit ungallantly. Her body longed for his like his for hers and when he heard her moan again he did not hesitate any longer.

Too much he enjoyed the moment when he finally felt her. Deep and tight, carried away by their youthful curiosity...

~oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~

Some time later they lay still upon the mossy cliffs high above the bay, tightly embraced, covered with sweat and totally out of breath, not willing to let go the other, still overwhelmed by the feelings they just presented each other with. Their fingers still buried within their hair, their lips still melted as deep as possible, her feet still wrapped around his hips.

Somewhen Jack sat up and dragged Cathleen upon his lap. They held each other close, nestled up against each other. He breathed a kiss to her temple and while his gaze got lost on the horizon again he whispered: "There are three things on earth I really love, Caithleen Stevens. My freedom, the sea and – you..."

He hesitated for a moment, then he added: "You're like the sea, love, deep, mysterious, beautiful and wild. Free and full of life. And if the sea means freedom so do you..."


	7. 1718 A rashly Departure

**Chapter 6: 1718 A rashly Departure**

It was midday and the sun burnt down on the cliffs mercilessly, but all the same a fresh breeze coming from the sea brought some cooling which made this wonderful summer day much more bearable. Beside this did the little rivulet and the overhanging leaves of the dense virgin forests spent also chilling and shadow to escape the midday heat.

It was silent all around the place aside the permanent swoosh of the waves and the silent whisper of the wind. There was only one sound which seemed not to fit with its peaceful surroundings – the sound of metal clashing against metal while two swift figures ran and jumped over and around the rocks and the mossy cliffs, each of them eagerly making an effort to avoid letting the other use a possible advantage.

Jack Sparrow followed every move Caithleen Stevens made with his eyes and he would not have been able to deny that he was much more interested in her but within the duel they fought out up here – high above the bay and the open ocean.

He smiled to himself when he beheld her.

She looked bewitching the way she stood up there on the cliff – captivating like a wild flower, adorable and tempting. She was of a seldom kind of natural beauty pure and true. The wind played with her black hair and its untamed curls and her smile found its equivalence within her gray eyes shimmering within the sun.

Caithleen was a fearnaught to the core, a pirate lass, savvy and inventive, and she knew very well that his whole attention just belonged to her within this moment. Therefore her smile got a bit broader.

With an elegant move she tossed her hat aside. The sleeves of her shirt she had already rolled up and her sword lay firmly within her hand while she buried her bare feet steadily into the ground. She was short of breath and her chest raised in the rhythm of her gasps but her reddened cheeks told a different story. She wasn't willing to give in yet...

The twine which held her shirt close loosened during their skirmish and the now open piece of cloth made Jack sense which female attractions she hid underneath it. The same applied for her tight black pants she usually wore together with her boots.

Jack wasn't able to turn his gaze away and Caithleen laughed when she got aware of his dreamy mien: "Jack! What's wrong? For sure you'll not hesitate to fight against me because I'm a girl, eh?"

"Certainly not, love and I bet you're much better in the know than me that this would not put me off doing it! But to be honest, my sweet, if I look at you standing here in front of me, scant of breath and alluring with your heavily raising chest and your reddened cheeks there are coming some things to my mind I would prefer to do together with you instead of having to train sword fight at this hour."

Although she was already used to his gaze she blushed up to her ears – pretty much to his personal zest – and he added: "Ah, I see you're really aware of what I'm talking about aren't you, love?" His grin widened again and his gaze wandered unashamedly from her lips down to her chest: "Admit it, Caithleen, it would please you much more as well to feel my lips and my touch upon your skin now."

"Where from did you get this awareness?" Caithleen teased him.

"Oh! That's easy! I own this unique and for sure not erring awareness due to my inimitable sense for your deepest and most clandestine desiderata, love. It's in your eyes. Savvy?"

"Is that so?" Caithleen gazed at him challenging and before he was able to give her a reply she offended him her sword still within a firm grip: "Well then, you should make a try to earn your prize then..."

Jack jumped back and warded her off – once, twice – until she slipped through underneath his next strike which brought her straight to his back. He nearly lost some strands of his dark curls when she raised her sword again.

Jack made a rapid turn.

He pushed her sword aside, grasped her hand and dragged her towards him: "Don't declare it untrue, darling, you're exactly in the know that there is only one prize being worth to fight for. Means this makes you the prize. It's always a pleasure to see you blush up. So, tell me, Caithleen Stevens, what will I get if I win? Eh?"

"First of all you have to win, Jack Sparrow! As I said: If you want me to be your prize you have to earn it..."

She breathed a kiss upon his lips, then she pushed him out of her way and within a split second her sword lay within her hand again its tip pointing at Jack's chest: "And now you'll tell me what I'm supposed to get if I win."

"Wait and see!"

Jack hesitated for a moment then in a flash he pushed her blade aside with his own, let himself down on his knees and caught her ankle by surprise with a determined grasp. He pulled her from her feet, jumped up again and within the same moment she felt his blade close to her throat.

"Jack!"

Caithleen's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief but he just shrugged and said only one single word: "Pirate!"

His eyes were sparkling when he tossed his blade away. He let himself down on his knees again and placed himself upon her feet with a contented smile that she wasn't able to move them any more.

Caithleen raised on her elbows and beheld him: "You do not fight fair, Jack Sparrow!"

"There's no reason for me to fight fair, love. Already forgotten? I'm a pirate – and I want my prize now..." He struck the curls out of her face and the soft gaze out of his dark eyes he beheld her with belied his words and his actions. He never had in mind to vanquish her, he just wanted to take her by storm once again...

"What's the meaning of this? Am I the defeated then?"

"No, love. Never!" Jack helped her to sit up and dragged her into his arms: "No, Caithleen Stevens, if I would love to vanquish a girl I would have searched for a different kind of girl but not for you." He cupped her cheeks with his hands and added silently: "I don't want such a different kind of girl, love, and that's why I'll always be both in the end: the winner and the defeated. As long as you want me..."

"That's the truth then?"

"Aye!"

"Then you earned your prize, eh?"

Jack closed his eyes when she started to caress him and when she loosened his belt and his sash with briskly fingers before her hands slipped under his shirt. His chilled skin felt tender and soft and underneath her fingers she felt his heartbeat.

Their lips found each other – wildly and impassioned – and they sank into a deep kiss full of ardent longing and this one single wish to feel each other.

His hands caressed her legs, her tender body and her alluring breasts when she buried her face within his hair and surrendered to him.

Caithleen's voice sounded hoarse when she whispered into his ear: "For sure I want you, Jack Sparrow. Always! And the most right here and now..."

It needed no more additional words when they both started impatiently to tear on each others clothes until they finally felt each other skin to skin, their fingers intertwined, their legs mingled and his hips rubbing against hers while their kisses grew more and more passionate.

When Caithleen lay within his arms somewhen later – her eyes closed in sweet exhaustion, her lips reddened from his kisses, her cheeks and chest blushed in sensual enjoyment after they sent each other over the edge and panting for air – Jack, still out of gasp himself, beheld her for a while.

He enjoyed keeping taps on her until she opened her eyes. With a smile he asked: "What's this, love? That exhausted?" He gave her a wink: "Seems as if I'm really in the know about what to do, eh...?"

She returned the smile still caught within the suavely drowsing of doze she drifted into: "If you're already in the know about how to send me over the edge now, what else will wait for me then later on...?"

"Well, let's say it this way, love – I've not the slightest idea, but I'm hell-bent to find it out..."

"Me too and we own a whole lifetime to do so..." She whispered and pulled him into another kiss.

"Yes, love, you're right. A whole lifetime." His lips grazed her ear: "I love you, Caithleen Stevens, and if I would have to I would sail for you to the end of the world – and over the edge as well if necessary..."

He covered her lips with his again and when she raised her hips against his to grant him entrance, when he felt her tightness surrounding him and when he heard her sighs of pleasure he was very well aware that he wanted to feel her – again and again and again...

~o~O~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~O~o~

The dull rumble came from the other side of the island and it found its way to their conscience only by slow pace.

Jack and Caithleen had fallen asleep upon the mossy cliffs, still keeping each other within a tight embrace and arms and legs still wrapped around each other as close as possible. Obviously they were much more exhausted due to the fact that they couldn't get enough from each other than due to their simulated duel...

That was why Jack's fluttering eyelids opened only reluctantly when the annoying sound recurred. He blinked several times to get used to the sun again then he stopped short. This sound did not belong to a tempest like they were usual and like they used to happen once a day within this season. Therefore it was too permanent and therefore it recurred too constantly. In addition there were no clouds to spot at the moment.

Rapidly he sat up: "Caithleen! Wake up! We fell asleep and as it seems something's going on at the port on the other side."

She did not need long to get what he was talking about. They hurried to gather their clothes together lying spread all around the place and to slip in. As soon as hats, shoes and swords also found their right place again they started to climb up some rocks to get a better view over the island and its backside.

However, the little port lay out of their sight and for the first moment both of them weren't quite sure what really was going on over there. Then they saw a sail vanishing behind the coastline and they meant having spotted a flag at the stern of said ship.

They changed a rapid look and Jack expressed what they both thought: "The Spanish! They attack the port! You know what this means. If they surround the isle they will also find the passage and the bay. Caith! We have to warn Patrick and Rosalind. They have to ready the ships!"

"Isn't it possible that we'll stay unchallenged?"

"I don't know, love, but this is supposed to be a rather small hope. Better let them find us on the open ocean than within this secret hideout. At sea we'll be able to outrun them and to be honest it's much easier to find a new ship than such a unique place like this. Come", he grasped her hand and helped her up: "let's hurry:"

Without looking for their way they hastened down the path leading towards the little cottage upon the cliff with its whitewashed walls.

Jack grasped Caithleen with her shoulders: "Go and inform Pat and Rose. I'll search for Jacobsen and Bill meanwhile. And, Caith, don't waste any time with searching for our belongings. Aboard we'll find enough of them and if it's over we'll return here soon."

She just nodded and while she stumbled into the cottage Jack ran down the path until he reached the home of Bill Turner being totally out of breath.

He didn't waste time with knocking but tore open the door and went in. The same moment he stood rooted to the ground when he found out that a pistol got aimed at him.

"Oi!" He raised his hands within a pacifying gesture while shying away from the gun: "No need to hurry, mate! It's me, Jack!"

"Bill lowered the pistol and beheld the boy in a mix of surprise and affright: "Jack! What the hell did you have in mind? It was by a hair's breadth that you ended up with a bullet in your brow!"

"Never mind!" Jack caught himself rapidly: "And to be honest there's no time to think about such trifle!"

"You should catch your breath first, lad, and then I suggest you start telling me what happened from the beginning. Will you?"

"Yes! Everything's fine with me! It's just that the Spanish started cannonading the port on the other side of the isle. We heard it and we saw at least one ship until it vanished behind the coastline. If we won't do anything there won't be nothing left of the town and the harbor but smoldering debris..."

"The Spanish you say? And just one single ship?" Bill shook his head: "No, son, they never come with just one ship. And there is only one man who's on the hunt for pirates and all those who dare to help them within these waters. They are not the Spanish, Jack, it's Don Esteban de Vargas, authorized representative of his majesty the King of Spain. Accredited to kill every pirate he will come across. He captured Caithleen's father and his crew and..."

"...He's the one who burnt them all alive." Jack finished the sentence: "I know about it. Caith told me."

"Are Patrick and Rosalind already in the know?"

"Caith is with them:"

"Well done, lad. Then we'll ready the ship. I'm convinced that we won't take the risk to lure the Spanish here." He hesitated for a while then he added: "This will mean we've to leave the bay for a while as it seems."

Turner's face reflected his feelings and his discomfort within this moment and Jack had a slight idea what or better who it was he was in sorrow about.

He turned round and shouted towards the chamber at the upper floor: "Elianor! Hurry! We have to leave and you have to accompany us aboard. I would explain everything to you if there would be time enough but there isn't."

"Aboard?" A voice asked from above. "Why?"

"Trust me! It's necessary! Take only those things you're in need of!"

"Bill, what is all of this about? No one will ever come to this bay because no one who's not aware how to find it will find it.

Elianor came down the stairs now. She resembled Caithleen and Rosalind in some kind of way – wearing pants and boots, shirt and jerkin, her honey colored hair hidden underneath a bandana, a hat and a belt within her hand. She placed her hat upon her head and just wanted to wrap her belt round her waist when she stopped short and let her hand sink. Instead she grasped for her sword and her pistol without putting them to the belt.

She was a pretty lass and there was no doubt how it could happen that Bill Turner fell for her from one moment to the other. Her narrow face got dominated by her big blue eyes and her full and fine carved lips. She was somewhat older than Jack and Caithleen but not much and when she stood in front of him Jack was able to spot why she did without the belt:

Elianor Turner was with child.

Within her eyes still skepticism was shown but she trusted enough in her husband for not to search too long for refutation.

This just did change when Bill turned towards Jack again: "Listen to me, lad, I want you to take Elianor aboard the "Wing". I want you to take her to London equal what might happen to us. Got me?"

"What is this supposed to mean, Bill Turner? First you want me to accompany you but now it's the "Wing" for me and not the "Stream"? For sure Pat and Rose will set sail together, won't they?"

Bill ignored her and grasped Jack with his shoulders: "Well then, Jack! Did you get me? Want your promise, son. Take her to London even if she might protest during the whole crossing. I don't want her to get harmed and she must not get caught by the Spanish! By no means! You understand..."

Jack nodded: "Aye! I promise, but Bill, it's time to leave..."

"One moment, gents!" Elianor glared at Jack and Bill by turns: "Why London?"

"Is this really of relevance, dear?" Elianor did not answer and Bill added with a sigh: "Why don't you want to get me? Is it so difficult to understand that I would not be able to suffer it if something would occur to you. To both of you?" He gently touched her slightly swelled body.

Elianor swallowed hard and it was not to miss that she was shortly at tearing up.

Bill beheld her and stroked her cheek: "Return to London, sweet. This life is not a life for a child. I promise I'll follow as soon as we'll get through this."

"Don't tell me that you're willing to give up this life, Bill Turner!" A bitter smile appeared upon her lips as if she was in the know about much more than she was willing to say: "Is there another life for you at all? And what do you think will happen if they'll find out who the father of our child is?"

The alarm bell got rung and every further discussion got interrupted. It was time to leave and none of them knew if and when they would return to the bay.

~o~O~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~O~o~

The gangplank got pulled in when Rosalind and Caithleen came aboard and Jacobsen drove the crew of the "Eagle's Wing" on to hurry: "Set sail and weigh the anchor you rotten landlubbers! Make haste! You're not here for your pleasure!"

"That will do, Mister Jacobsen." Rosalind grinned then she shouted: "Fasten the gangplank to the ship's side and cast off! We're going to have a rendezvous with the Spanish!"

"Aye!" Jacobsen turned towards the men: "You heard the captain, gents! And you all know what such a rendezvous means – a proper prey for all of you!"

Jack watched how Rosalind and Caith came aboard. His hands already flew over the wheel barely after the lines got loose and he veered the "Wing" slowly into the bay.

He wanted to render the helm to Rosalind when they came up to join him but she just shook her head: "Stay where you are! You proved yourself more than once to be a good captain. So I trust in you that you'll not run my ship aground today of all days."

Since the attack which nearly sent the "Wing" down to the deep depths of the open ocean and which did dozens of good men cost their lives almost a year passed by.

Due to these circumstances they dragged the "Wing" ashore to mend her and Rosalind used that chance to fix her ship not only rough-and-ready like usual but from her keel up to her masts.

Jack loved the ship since he set his first step on its planks and since he was allowed to take its helm for the first time it felt as if he and the "Wing" got bound by something special. She followed him willingly when he sailed her through the narrow passage. Meanwhile he knew its perils in his sleep and blindfolded and he was very well aware how to avoid the hidden reefs and shallows.

What he asked himself was if this rash departure, which more or less resembled a flight, was really wise. No one knew about the passage and the bay except those who were living there or who were members of both crews. And even if the Spanish would succeed in finding the passage it for sure did not mean that they would succeed in getting through it. It was much more thinkable that they would run aground without coming to see the hidden bay at all.

But it was idle to think about it any more. The decision was made and they would face the Spanish at sea.

"What's wrong with her?" Jack pointed towards Rosalind with his head, who leaned against the rail being obviously deep in thoughts while watching the "Silver Stream" how she sailed through the bay taking course towards the passage.

"Don't know." Caithleen replied with a shrug: "She and Pat had a rather violent discussion about how to go on when we reach the Spanish and as it seems Patrick's the one who won."

"Was it about the fact that he wants her to sail the "Wing" to England?"

"Wherefrom do you...?"

"Elianor is with us aboard the "Wing" and Bill charged me more than once with taking her to London by all means."

"To London?" Caithleen frowned.

It obviously turned out that Patrick's plan provided that he would face the Spanish on his own while he wanted Rosalind to take flight...

"As it seems you've nothing better in mind but hanging around together, eh?" Rosalind suddenly snarled at them harshly: "You're not my helmsman because it provides you another chance to whisper sweet nothings with my daughter! You", she glared at Caithleen: "will join Jacobsen with preparing the guns! And you", her attention turned back at Jack: "will take care that we get through the passage unharmed!"

"Aye, ma'am!" Caithleen and Jack changed a worried look until she went to the deck to search for Jacobsen, not aware what might have caused the change within Roasalind's mood that fast.

"Which course, captain?" Jack tried to keep on acting the naive boy. Possibly he would get some answers concerning her bad temper that way.

"To the open ocean!" Rosalind answered her gazed fixed on the "Silver Stream".

"You won't attack the Spanish together?"

"No! Patrick wants me to cruise out of harm's way."

"Did you make up a concourse?"

"If it should become necessary we'll meet at Tortuga. But let's hope that it won't become necessary."

"Don't worry. Pat's a good sailor. He's in the know about what to do."

"Stop that idle talk, Jack Sparrow! Patrick and Bill are egregious fools even if they are some of the best sailors all around the seven seas. Vargas shows up here for only one reason – he searches for us since Patrick freed us from his vessel. To him being a pirate means having lost every right to live. Mark my words, Jack, and mark his name. You'll come across him again – equal what will happen to us today."

Within this moment Roaslind seemed to age about several years. A shadow darkened her face and for a split second it looked tired and gray. She blinked and the moment was over: "Bring us to the open ocean, Jack. It's not time for us to mourn yet..."

~o~O~o~o~o~O~o~o~o~O~o~

Jack, Caithleen and Jacobsen succeeded in convincing Rosalind to surround the isle opposite to the "Stream" and even if this was against Patrick's order she did not withdraw this order and the longer they sailed close to the coastline the feeling that something was not like it was supposed to be increased more and more.

Since Rosalind went below to her quarters Jack was in charge and he tried to act the captain as well as possible.

He and Caithleen agreed about the idea that something worse must have occurred between Rosalind and Patrick but just a hot tempered argument. It happened much often that they did not agree about their new foray or the next prey. This was something different and maybe one reason was that this Spanish commander got that close to the passage and their hideout and that this Spanish commander was exactly the one who killed captain Stevens many years ago.

True or not neither Jack nor Caithleen had a better idea...

Following his inner voice that something must be definitely wrong Jack finally ordered: "Mister Jacobsen, strike the skull and crossbones and set the Spanish flag. They won't count on that there could be a Spanish merchant sailer all around within these waters. If this maneuver will work they will think we belong to them. This will provide us time."

"Aye! I'm already on my way, lad!"

"So you really think we can outsmart them?" Caithleen sounded skeptical.

"If I'm wrong or not will turn out soon but it's worth the try. If we would be able to take them under crossfire it would grant us a great vantage."

The wind swelled the canvas and the "Wing" was able to surround the isle much faster than Jack would have guessed. Due to this circumstance they reached the cliffs offshore the port and its bay shortly before sunset. The same moment a cry came from the crow's nest: "Sail ho! Straight ahead!"

"Why here? This does not make sense! Take the helm, Caith!" Jack grasped for his spy glass and had a look though it: "What the hell...!" He lowered it just to have another look through it a second after: "This cannot be possible."

"What's the matter?"

"Have a look on your own, love." He passed the spy glass over to her.

"What does this mean?"

"This?" Jack gave her a bitter smile: "This, Caith, means that we're straight on our way to end up within a trap! They never attacked the port and the town. They're just firing their guns off! We let them dupe us! Bugger!"

"What can we do?"

"We've no choice, love, but to follow Patrick's order and leave. And all we can hope is that he'll find it out as well. For now we'll heave to and make our exit."

Jack closed his eyes for a moment. He did not want to make a decision like that but he was very well in the know that they would not have just the slightest chance against those heavy armed Spanish warships.

Therefore he ordered: "Mister Jacobsen set full canvas! Every sail we have left. This is no raid! It's a trap..."


	8. 1718 Shattered Dreams

**Chapter 7: 1718 Shattered Dreams**

"Turn her around, Jack Sparrow! Immediately!" Rosalind's voice sounded over the whole deck: "That's an order!"

She rushed out of the captain's quarters and jumped up the stairs leading to the helm her eyes sparkling dangerously from anger while everyone who stayed on the deck kept his breath not quite sure about what would happen next.

Jack Sparrow, Rosalind's young helmsman and navigator aboard the "Eagle's Wing" had dared to revoke her order to follow Patrick Swallow and his "Stream" and had set a new course towards a different heading – away from the island, away from the Spanish and away from the "Silver Stream".

It was an open affront against Rosalind Stevens and her authority as captain of the "Wing" and every man aboard knew how this kind of disregarding her orders would also be called as soon as this day was over: Mutiny!

Jack had a frank look at Rosalind's face and replied with a calm of which he wasn't sure if he really felt it: "That's not an order! It's madness and you're very well aware of it! And who else but you?"

"You dare to answer me back?" Rosalind stared at him out of wide open eyes the same unbelievingly and totally confused about what was going on aboard her ship right now.

"Yes, I dare! As you dare to question Patrick's decisions!"

"No one questions Patrick's decisions!"

"You just did!"

"This is my vessel! Forgot that? So, my ship makes me captain and being captain of my ship means giving orders to my crew and as long as it is that way, young Mister Sparrow, you and the crew will follow my orders!"

"Do you really want to discuss this now? Well, I think it's neither the right place not the right point of time to do so! Patrick wants us to take the "Wing" out of this trap..."

"Patrick wants us to take Elianor to London! That's what he already promised to Bill Turner months ago if a case like this should happen!" Rosalind hissed: "He just forgot about one thing: The "Wing" is not under his command! And as I said before, she's still my ship! So don't dare again to follow Patrick's orders aboard my vessel! Got me! And now turn her about! Unless you want me to put you to the brig!"

"What is all of this really about? Eh?" Jack let go the helm and leaned back against the rail.

"You're in the know about it, Jack! If we'll attack the Spanish together, with both ships we'll be able to capture them!"

Rosalind seemed really to believe in her words and underneath her skin deep rage there was to sense and to spot something totally different: Despair and trepidation...

She knew Patrick to be right, she knew Jack to be right and much more she knew that they would not be able to vanquish or even resist the Spanish commander and his heavily armed warships – neither alone nor together.

Worst of all was indeed that she exactly knew what would wait for Patrick and his men if Don Esteban de Vargas would catch them. The Spanish commander had always been eager if it came to inventing new ways and methods to turn a prisoner's life into hell on earth and although many years passed by since their last encounter she wasn't able to forget the horrible sight when Jeremy Stevens' ship – her husband's ship – burst into flames – together with him enchained to the helm and his crew locked within the brig.

The roar of the flames, the screams of the men who, had no chance left to free themselves from their fate, and the penetrative smell of burnt wood and human flesh still followed her into her dreams. She wasn't sure if she owned the strength to bear something like that for a second time.

But even if she was still horrified while thinking of the past she could not leave Patrick to a fate like that.

So, the more unwelcome it was when Jack Sparrow – still just being a slender boy with soft dark eyes – dared to answer: "You know this to be an illusion, Rosalind! The Spanish will send both of you down to Davy Jones' Locker!"

"I'm not afraid of the Locker or a ghost ship! You're still almost a child! So what do you know about life and decisions to be made?"

"Nothing and everything! You're my captain, Rosalind Stevens, and I don't have in mind to change this but did you ask yourself why Patrick wanted you, Caith and Elianor to stay aboard one vessel? Your vessel? Did you ask yourself what would happen to you and the other women if the Spanish would capture you? You err if you believe that a quick death would await the three of you. That's what I understood when you and Pat told us about Vargas and his way to deal with pirates."

He made some steps towards her and stopped right in front of her, then he added: "You are the captain, Rosalind, without any doubt, and aboard your ship you have any right to do whatever might please you but there is one thing you should never forget about: Being captain of a ship means also that you have duties against your crew..."

"What is this supposed to mean?"

"You're blindfolded by vengefulness, Rose! To be honest I'm not really interested in it if you want to make this an easy prey for the Spanish or if you want to make yourself an easy prey for them. This would be a pity but let's name it as it is – this would be your decision. Aye? But one thing I'm not willing to accept, dear, is: If you dare to make Caithleen an easy prey for the Spanish as well. The same applies for your crew. Savvy?"

"You have no idea! You've not been there back then! Somebody has to bring this to an end!"

"No one would ever doubt you right for revenge! But today's not the day!" Jack stepped in her way when she wanted to take the helm: "Until I'll leave the helm to you, answer me one last question: What are you supposed to do if they really catch you or us? Will you endure it if the crew of that Spanish commander will abuse you, if they will ravish you until they're sated? Will you suffer it if the same crew will abuse and ravish Caith? Will you suffer it if they will sell her to a brothel afterwards? And what's with Elianor? Can you imagine what they will do to her? A woman carrying a pirate bastard? You know what they will do to her! And now tell me: is this what you want to happen? If the answer is yes, we're through, Rosalind Stevens!"

She slapped him hard and it was what he had expected. What he had not expected was that she looked daggers at him: "Get out of my way, Sparrow, and get out of my sight! Get you gone and name yourself glad that I'm not letting you rot within the brig!"

Jack left the deck without saying another word. He left the helm to her and rushed below. The door leading to the quarters got slammed – once, twice. Caithleen followed him.

Rosalind took the helm and brought the "Wing" around. She snarled at the men still standing rooted to the ground being barely able to believe what they just saw and heard: "Is there anything to look on? Hurry up! To your stations! Move!"

The men dashed asunder, stumbled about each other and tried to get back to work appearing as uninvolved as possible.

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

Aboard the "Silver Stream" Patrick watched with relief when the "Eagle's Wing" set full canvas and veered off. His trust in Jack Sparrow got not disappointed and he hoped that Rosalind would understand some day why he made this decision the way he did.

Less could he guess what was going on aboard the "Wing" at the same time.

Patrick grasped a bottle of rum, pulled out the cork and had a deep draft out of it. Then he surrendered to his thoughts again. The Spanish were with six ships and Vargas was hell-bent to catch him. He called himself a fool because he had been convinced that he could handle it without help. Much more he called himself a fool because Vargas had been able to catch him in a trap. He had been frivolous and as it seemed there was no way out. Nevertheless he was not willing to give his ship or his life away without fighting. If it wasn't possible anymore to take flight he would scuttle his "Stream" in a way which would please him. Then it would be an easy task to go down with her.

His crew was made up of only those men who knew about the danger of getting possibly scuttled and who were willing to stay aboard or to follow their captain to hell if necessary. It was an agreement he and Bill Turner made up long ago and no one but the two of them came ever to know it. Not even Rosalind because he knew her well enough to guess that she would never have accepted it.

She was obsessed with the thought to vanquish Vargas some day, that much that she was willing to sacrifice everything: her life, her ship, her love. Until the day when he pulled a boy out of the bay of Shipwreck Cove and decided to take him to their secret hideout.

For a while it seemed as if Jack's skills at the helm and while dealing with compass and charts would be able to heal those old wounds but the more he and Caithleen found together the more seemed Rosalind to feel empty and lost.

Patrick knew that it would get much worse when this day was finally over but he had no choice left any more. They never had one and now everything he wanted to do was to end his life in a way that pleased him. Aboard his ship...

"Everything's prepared and in good order. Your crew and your ship are waiting for your order!"

Bill Turner climbed up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck to meet Patrick up there. His face looked strained and he made no secret of his feelings. He felt uneasy about what his long lasting companion and captain had planned.

"Very well!" Patrick turned round to face him: "Let's find out then what Vargas has in mind about how to deal with us. I suppose it will be something really special..."

"You sound as if you're not the slightest afraid of what might wait for us."

"Want an honest reply, my friend?" Patrick grimaced: "I can imagine something much more desirable. But I know that I will not leave without providing this Spanish bastard with what he earns."

"That's supposed to be what?"

"As many broadsides as we will be able to fire off until they will send us to the depths. I've not the slightest idea if we will meet again after this is over, Bill Turner, but in case we won't you should give up piracy and just care about your pretty lass and the young Turner she carries with her..."

"Says the man who never wanted to live another life as a pirate's life!"

Patrick grinned: "Oh, don't get me wrong, old fellow, there is a different life worth living it but it was never meant for me. But enough of this idle talk! Let's prepare the front court to hell for our dear friend Vargas!"

"Aye, captain!"

While Bill Turner went below to prepare the men for the upcoming fight Patrick took the helm himself. Everything was ready and they had favorable wind to maneuver as long amongst the Spanish warships as possible.

He turned towards the man he just relieved from the helm: "Hoist the colors! The red one! They won't grant us mercy so why should we then!"

The man hurried to follow Patrick's order and shortly after the skull and crossbones on red ground waved with the wind, the unmistakable hint that Patrick Swallow wasn't willing to surrender.

With a contented smile upon his lips and a nearly fatalistic glance within his eyes he finally yelled: "Fire at will, Mister Turner!"

Only a split second later the first salvo from the "Stream" hit Don Esteban's flagship, the "Santa Isabella", under the waterline.

It did not last long until Vargas sent them his answer. While Patrick brought the "Stream" around the balls smashed into the cannon deck, the bow and the galley. A second salvo tossed Greek fire into the sails and the rigging and the flaring flames enwrapped the ship, its crew and the whole scenario in an eerie light.

Patrick closed his eyes when another Spanish salvo hit the "Stream" and smashed the masts, the captain's cabin and the quarters. The mousetrap closed round the proud galleon and her captain knew that whatever he would be able to try would not be enough to vanquish the Spanish but it would be more than enough to grant the "Eagle's Wing" time enough to escape.

"My love belongs to you, Rosalind Stevens. I wish I would have told it to you more often than I did..."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

Aboard the "Eagle's Wing" the crew witnessed the drama which happened right in front of their eyes helpless and in silence - and the moment when the Spanish warships attacked the "Silver Stream" like a beast of prey attacked a wounded to death victim.

The "Stream's" sails and rigging already caught fire when one after the other the masts fell and when the blood red flag sank down to the depths with lots of other debris the jubilation of the Spanish was also to hear aboard the "Wing".

Rosalind stood at the bow of her ship – motionless, silent and giving no hint that she was still able to do what might become necessary.

Every man aboard knew that there would be no escape anymore for Patrick Swallow and his men even if some of them might be able to reach the shore swimming. The isle wasn't supposed anymore to grant them shelter and survival.

Aboard the "Wing" the crew had also left the choice between getting scuttled as well if they headed to help the almost lost "Stream" or following Patrick Swallow's wish and try the crossing over to England. But however the decision would be Rosalind was meant to make it.

Jacobsen made a try to tear her out of her lethargy: "Ma'am, we cannot stay here. We have to try to do anything..."

"We'll stay until it's over, Mister Jacobsen. As for me you can douse the lights that they won't be able to spot our position but we won't move until it's over..."

She did not finish her sentence when an enormous burst tore the "Silver Stream" into pieces. The powder magazine caught fire and since it was filled to the brim with powder and ammunition she dragged two of the Spanish warships down to the depths together with her.

Every man aboard the "Wing" was aware of what this meant – whoever still stayed aboard the "Stream" would end up at Davy Jones' Locker and those who survived would soon wish not to have.

"Still wanting to wait until it's over, Captain?" Jacobsen gazed at Rosalind while kneading his cap in his hands.

She just nodded and he turned round to face the men who were still staring at the terrifying spectacle taking place in front of their eyes: "Douse the lights, gents. We won't set sail before dawn."

When Jacobsen started to follow Rosalind's order Jack came across him. He answered the silent question within the young man's eyes with just shaking his head.

While aboard the "Wing" the lights expired one after the other Jack joined Rosalind at the bow. Her hands clasped the rail that firm that her knuckles already turned white due to the strain.

Her face resembled a mask not willing or not wanting to show the slightest emotion but as much as she tried to keep her strength she wasn't able any more to do it.

"It's for the second time that I've to watch helplessly how my life burst into flames." Her voice was soundless and Jack wasn't quite sure if her words were really meant for him.

"There was nothing you would have been able to do to prevent it, equal which strength you would have been able to find within your innermost."

Rosalind Stevens did not give him a reply. The awareness that Jack had been right from the beginning cleaved through her innermost and to her conscious with might and within a wink of an eye the truth hit her with some tremendous and unforeseen vehemence.

Jack succeeded in catching her just before she collapsed to the ground.

"Mister Jacobsen!" He yelled: "Hurry, mate!"

Jack's voice sounded over the whole deck and it didn't need long until the first mate went over to them carrying a single lantern with him.

"Take her below, mate, and take care that no one except you, Caith or me will stray round her cabin."

"Aye, Captain!" Jacobsen gazed at him obviously waiting for some more orders.

"It's not as far as, mate. Not yet! Rosalind is the captain of this vessel and it's not my turn to change this."

"No, son, you're right. It's not your turn but it's possible that it will become the crew's turn soon."

"The captain gets chosen by open choice, mister Jacobsen. If the men want a new captain they shall at least wait until we'll reach the next port. Savvy?"

"Nevertheless you're the captain within this moment. So what do you have in mind how to go on?"

Jack had a thoughtful look at Rosalind's tired and exhausted face. With a sigh he finally explained: "They made up to meet at Tortuga if they would get separated. We'll set course towards the isle and wait. No one knows what really happened aboard the "Stream". In addition we have to store fresh supplies if we want to dare the crossing to England. Therefore it will cause none of us any harm if we'll stay at Tortuga for one or two weeks."

Jacobsen just nodded then he went below to take Rosalind to her cabin.

"They knew it both!"

A voice behind him let Jack wince. It was Elianor who stared at the dark sea with a petrified mien. He did not hear her when she arrived and he wasn't sure if she possibly heard anything of what Jacobsen dared to explain to him. But she gave him no hint that she did.

Instead of she let herself drop on a number of rolled up hawsers and said: "Patrick and Bill must have guessed and planned it that this day might come and what they would do if it would be as far as. The only thing I can't get is that they made it that easy for this Spanish."

"They didn't, love. But they forgot about one thing which sometimes grants you a much better vantage than every weapon could. They should have acted the fool when they faced Vargas and his companions. They should have let him guess them to be weak and inferior. I would not hesitate to act the fool if it would provide me a chance to save my ship and my crew."

"You're young, Jack, and there will be a lot of time for you to find out if it will really be helpful to act the fool."

"Yes, maybe you're right. But first of all we'll set sail and head for England, love. I promised to take you to London and that's what I will do..."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

The "Eagle's Wing" sailed under full canvas and headed for the isle of Tortuga.

The men went finally back to man the stations and the numbness which kept them all within its claws started to vanish slowly. After having lost the "Stream" there was no guarantee that they would be able to return to their secret hideout soon. At least that long until the Spanish left these waters. That was why they set sail towards Tortuga.

Tortuga!

Pirate's island and robber's den! It was nearly dead certain that several men would take their chance to hire aboard another vessel. The contract they once made up with Rosalind did not bind them to her or her ship for a lifetime and the point of time was opportune to make a try with another captain.

Jack did not feel good while thinking of the infamous pirate port but he had no choice. And since he actually had no choice Tortuga was the best because it wasn't only an infamous pirate port but a free port as well. Avoided by the Spanish and the English...

However, until they would reach the island they had to spend two days at sea and Jack hoped that Rosalind would regain her strength until it was as far as that she could return to the deck as the captain of the "Wing".

His hope got shattered within a split second when Caithleen rushed up to the helm. She ignored the questioning looks of the men and went up to the helm taking two steps for one: "Hurry, Jack! Come with me! I fear, I won't be able to deal with this all alone."

It needed no further explanation. Rapidly Jack fixed the helm and hurried to follow Caithleen below. No one needed to tell him what was waiting there for them. Rosalind woke up from out of mazy dreams and her desperation impended to tear her apart.

"Patrick!" Her voice sounded hoarse and choked with tears: "Patrick!" And it broke again and again while she got tossed by sobbing.

"It's the same like this for hours, Jack!" Caithleen struck her hair out of her face, tired and helpless: "She cries, she screams, when she finally falls asleep she gets plagued by her dreams and when she wakes up she tosses things at those who try to hush her."

"Are you in the know if the ship's doctor has laudanum aboard?" Jack asked: "Back then at Shipwreck Island I once witnessed how such a quacksalver infused it to a man and it worked, although I'm not quite sure if due to the rum or due to the laudanum..."

"Stay here and let me have a look..."

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

Caithleen returned shortly after carrying a small bottle with her: "It should do until we reach Tortuga. Provided that we'll succeed in infusing it to her."

Jack shrugged: "Taking the worst case into consideration it would mean that she either will shoot us or throw us overboard. So it's all trifles, isn't it, love?"

They nodded at each other and Jack dared to open the door leading to the captain's quarters – carefully...

Inside it looked as if a Typhoon raged all around the cabin and amongst shattered glass and smashed china lay Roaslind's clothes, her charts and her logbooks. She herself sat upon her berth and stared impassively at a spot on the floor. Her long black hair fell into her face in woozily strands and her face and eyes were reddened and swelled.

She raised her gaze when the door closed behind Jack and Caithleen and the same moment an empty bottle got smashed on the wall close to them.

"Missed!" Jack had a look at the spot on the wall where the bottle broke into pieces: "My dear Rosalind, you should wait with doing this until you'll come across some half-wits who are not well-disposed towards you. The two of us do not have in mind to bother you. Aye?"

"Then the two of you should make your exit!"

"Not until you calmed down", Caithleen answered back while she searched for a mug and a bottle of rum. She rapidly mixed a not even small amount of the laudanum with the rum and handed it over to Rosalind.

"What's this?" Rosalind eyed the mug with skepticism and she gazed at Jack and Caithleen by turns.

"It will grant you sleep..." Caithleen explained.

"And it will grant you oblivion..." Jack added: "At least for a while..."

Rosalind still hesitated but after a while she took the mug and emptied it within one single draft. Then she curled herself within her berth again and Jack and Caithleen decided that there was nothing else they could do for her at the moment.

They just closed the door behind them after they sneaked out of the cabin when they heard Rosalind sob bitterly again.

Jack dragged Caithleen in his arms and breathed a kiss upon her brow: "I'm sorry, love. I think this is what Patrick failed to take into consideration..."


	9. 1718 Tortuga

**Chapter 8: 1718 Tortuga**

„_Jack,_

_I expect you to be still alive and to be able to read these lines I left for you in a place where you can stay alone and without any interruption. If this is the case it is true at the end of the day and I got caught by the devil to end up within Davy Jones' Locker together with my Silver Stream._

_You can trust in me, it is not what I would have wished to happen but it is what will wait for all of us some day. I don't expect you to understand it – not yet – but I know you will if the time is ripe. However it is no reason to melt into tears or to spend the rest of your life mourning. The life I led and of which you had been a part of for a few years was the life I wanted to live. You know why – freedom, love and the sea..._

_I spare you from the idle talk about you being the son I never had. It's just a negligibility. You and your sweet Caith are more than a gift for an old salt and a pirate like me. Life was broadminded to present me with you – both of you._

_No, there is something different I can't spare you from, lad, and I hope you will understand some day why I couldn't._

_Jack, you are really astucious and you own a keen sense how to rate the people you find yourself surrounded by. This applies for your friends as well as for your enemies. Keep this sense, keep this feeling and use it when you're on a foray or on a new adventure. _

_Let your enemies never guess what's going on behind your brow. Let not even your friends know what it really is you have in mind. Just tell them as much as necessary that they will follow you on your next adventure. As long as they are all only in the know about parts of your plan there will be much less dangers for them and also for you to become dispensable to your enemies. Sometimes it may be possible that your plan will develop while you're right in the middle. That's much better..._

_But never forget one thing: Your antagonists will always be just that strong like you let them become. You have a keen mind and your heart is open for everything and everyone having a meaning to you although your sense of justice seems to be a bit peculiar sometimes. _

_The more if I think about the fact that you chose to live a life as a pirate on the high seas..._

_Never mind..._

_You're in the know about the most being worth to know about the seven seas and the rest of our world. You're a good navigator and a much better helmsman – for sure you will be a great captain. You own everything a pirate should own and a lot which will possibly let you become a legend. You're a gifted swordsman and a remarkable marksman._

_And you will break a lot of fair ladies' hearts throughout the years. You're young and so is Caith and no one will be able to foresee if the band you both feel bound by will be strong enough to outwear a lifetime or even more but to me your bond seems to be much stronger than we all are able to guess at the moment._

_And there is another one thing you should never forget about equal what might happen to you – that is you. You will always be the one you are and neither you nor anybody else will be able to change this – unless you want it._

_Your way of life will also lead you to a point where it will become necessary to make decisions and you can believe in me they won't always please you._

_You will come across antagonists who will take you by surprise and who will take you to the edge of everything you're able to bear. The same you will find friendship in places not to expect it. You will lose fiends meaning the world to you and your heart will get broken more than once. This, Jack, this will be the point of time to take care for not losing its shards. You will come to know what is meant if it is time._

_I'm sure you ask yourself why I'm telling all of this to you. For sure not to bother you or to confuse you. All I want you to do is to look at the world you're surrounded by through open eyes. Our world is wonderful, Jack, filled with marvels and beauty ans it is able to present you with it if you just want it. There is a lot you can win and the same a lot you can lose and there will not be enough time to find it all out because our time is up. The time of all those great pirates and their adventures is over. Not yet but I know that you'll get me the way I want you to._

_Jack Sparrow, you're young and clever. Stay the one you are equal what others will promise to you. Power, treasure, magic are mighty seducers but use them with care whenever you will keep them in your hands._

_Never betray those things you believe in: your love, your freedom, your devotion._

_Never let it happen that others will be able to control you. If you heed this I know I advised you the right way._

_I'm not able to teach you much more but if you will stay the one you are I will be contented._

_Well, although I wanted to spare you from it nonetheless is true: I love you like my own kid so there is just one last wish – promise me to stay alive..._

_Patrick Swallow"_

~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~

With a sigh Jack let the hand he held Patrick's letter with sink. His gaze got lost thoughtfully on a spot somewhere within the room without really realizing it.

This letter was everything he had left to remember his fatherly friend. He found it – including Patrick's last thoughts – within the little cabin he shared together with Caithleen aboard the "Eagle's Wing" but it was idly thinking about when and how the clever pirate might have placed it there and Jack went against the idea that he could have planned leaving it there for much longer than everyone aboard was able to guess.

Jack stayed on his own. It was what he wanted. He sat within the chart room of the "Wing" and tried halfheartedly to deal with the charts and with figuring up a new course more than once detracted from the letter he read again and again.

Meanwhile the sun went down and it got dark outside. The night came up – silently and peacefully and just the pale moonlight spent luminance and pictured some bizarre shadows on the wall. Jack enlightened some candles and lanterns not willing of letting the darkness not only fill his mind but also his heart. Indeed, the warm candlelight wasn't able to dispel his thoughts but it was really welcome.

He grasped his goblet of wine standing in front of him at the table but he did not drink. Instead he read once again what Patrick left to him.

Patrick Swallow had given him a lot of good advice throughout the three years they lived together on their enchanted little island and now – sitting alone within the half shades of the chart room – they came to his mind. One after the other and some of them also written down in the letter. They were intelligent pieces of advice granted by a clever man and he would make the try to heed them all whenever possible although he wasn't quite sure if he would always be able to succeed in heeding them. But there would never again be a chance for questioning them, for spending endless long evenings with discussions sitting close to the fireplace within the little cottage upon the cliffs high above the bay.

The peaceful and easy life they lived up there ended just a few weeks ago...

The "Silver Stream" – Patrick's proud galleon – sunk to the deep depths of the open ocean and she dragged her captain's dream of leading a life aside piracy, hare-brained adventures, foolhardy sea fights and the continuous hunt for a proper prey down as well.

The Spanish took them under crossfire – at close range of their island and their home.

Swallow and his men fought up to the last plank then, when the "Stream" burst asunder the Spanish took him and a handful of survivors aboard their flagship just to hang them the same day using their main mast as an alternative for the gallows.

"To you, old friend..." Jack's voice was soundless. He brought the goblet to his lips but the wine did not taste.

When the "Wing" let go the anchor within the bay of Tortuga about two days later no one at first wanted to believe the staggering news concerning the loss of the "Stream" and her captain. Not until Rosalind Stevens went ashore – being just a shadow of her former self now – all the rumors and speculations fell silent. This happened four weeks ago and since then she never again set one single step aboard the "Wing". She wasn't the fearnaught any more, the sometimes hilarious, sometimes stubborn woman Jack came to know three years ago. She did totally change and if she at all found a way out of the tavern she wasn't able any more to think clearly or to speak understandable. The rum turned her into a foggy-brained wreck.

Aboard the "Wing" Elianor suffered agonies the same time while thinking about the possibility Bill Turner could also be dead and there was no way to calm her down because no one saw him or at least heard anything about him. Not a single sign that he might still stay alive. Jack felt sorry for her but the same he knew that they had to wait therewith to return to their island at least that long until they could be certain about the risk not to get captured by the Spanish as well.

First and foremost they had to deal with another problem anyway which meant how they should do it to get the young woman back to London in time. If Rosalind wasn't willing or able to change her mind soon and to remember her duties as captain of the "Wing" it would not be out of question that Elianor's child would make its first cry within the bay of Trotuga.

Jack let out another sigh and placed the goblet back on the table. He wanted to talk to Caithleen who kept watch up on the deck but just when he wanted to leave the room a knocking could be heard coming from the door and the same moment Jacobsen looked in.

"Ah! Here you are, lad! Caith told me I would find you below. We have to talk, Jack! Now!" With it he carefully closed the door again as if he was keen not to cause a sound which could tell anyone else where he vanished to.

"What is this sneaking around about, Mister Jacobsen?" Jack asked and let himself drop into the chair again while he kept taps on the skilled sailor who obviously stepped inwardly from one foot to the other.

"You really don't know it?"

It was a question Jacobson did not expect an answer to. For sure Jack was able to guess what the considerate and farseeing first mate of the "Eagle's Wing" wanted to tell him.

It was for four weeks now that they lay for anchor within the bay of Tortuga. The "Wing" was stowed with supplies, fresh water and rum and there actually was no reason anymore to postpone their leave. The only reason which kept them from doing so was Rosalind Stevens and her reluctance to get aboard again.

About one half of the crew already left the "Wing" when they reached Tortuga, to hire aboard another ship or to sail under the command of another captain after they came to the conclusion that Rosalind might not be able anymore to represent their interests in a proper way or because they weren't willing to suffer from the dictates anymore her grief and her temper exerted on them. Both got more and more unbearable additionally to the amount of rum she used to befog her brain with day in and day out.

Those who stayed aboard still wanted to stay although they also started to doubt their captain and as it seemed they came to a conclusion tonight. They obviously wanted to choose a new captain.

"Was it an unanimous decision, Mister Jacobsen?" Jack raised his gaze and he got very well aware that the man did not feel comfortable within this moment.

"We all are agreed that we would wait until you and Miss Caith would have made your decision. You know, Jack, the men aren't quite sure about the girl. For she's Rosalind's daughter. They're afraid they cannot trust her..."

"Tell them, they can always trust in Rosalind's daughter, Mister Jacobsen. You and the men are right!" Caithleen closed the door behind her and added: "I agree as well!"

"You know, lass, we never wanted to commit a mutiny. It's just..." Jacobsen shrugged and searched for the right words.

"Just let it out. I already know the truth. She's not herself anymore. Who else but me could know this better. And that's why I agree, Mister Jacobsen. On one condition: As soon as we have taken Elianor to London we'll return to Tortuga immediately. I can't leave Rosalind on the isle all alone. I have to make a try to get her out of her dark mood and I have to make a try to take her back aboard."

"Agreed, Miss!" Jacobsen sounded relieved then he stopped short and remembered that Jack still kept silent to everything they just talked about. He cleared his throat and asked: "What about you, lad?"

Jack cocked his head and gazed at Jacobsen: "Will the decision become somehow easier if I'm going to tell you what's going on behind my brow? Eh? You and the crew want me to be the captain of this vessel, that's what I already guessed when you tried to bring this proposal to my mind for the first time. But tell me, mate, is this really what you want?" He leaned back within his chair and placed his feet upon the table waiting what would happen next.

"It's what the crew and I decided. At least those men who are still aboard."

"Very well then, Mister Jacobsen, you can tell them that I agree as well. But listen to me carefully mate, because there is something I want to warn you about. All of you and already here and now: As soon as Rosalind Stevens will come to know again who she really is she will name us mutineers and everything what happened here today, what we discussed, what we decided unanimously mutiny. Equal of the aim we had in mind while doing it, equal if Caith is her daughter." He locked eyes with Caithleen and went on: "Equal if we're willing to return to Tortuga to take her back aboard. If we set sail, if we leave the bay and if we take her ship to dare the crossing to England she will never ever tolerate it. Quite the contrary. Savvy?" He had a thought about it and then he added: "But it's idle talking about now. The decision is made. Take your duties as always, Mister Jacobsen. You're still the first mate aboard. Tell the men that we will set sail with the break of dawn. They shall ready the ship."

"Aye, captain!"

~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~

Caithleen and Jack remained alone within the chart room.

He did make his decision but she knew that thinking about it made him uncomfortable.

"You feel uneasy about this situation, don't you?" Caithleen placed herself on the edge of the table – face to face with him – and grasped the half-full goblet with wine: "If you don't mind...?"

He just shook his head and watched her how she emptied the goblet and placed it back on the table. Finally he grasped her with her hips and dragged her on his lap astride: "You're right, love, I feel uneasy with this situation, with this decision, with sneaking out of the bay. Call it like you want to it's nothing different but a mutiny. In the absence of our captain."

"What else could we have done?"

"I don't know, sweet. I don't know. Just that I promised something to Pat and Bill. We have to take Elianor to London. At any rate. Aboard the "Wing" or aboard any other vessel that floats." Jack let his hands move down her back until he reached waist and started to pull her shirt out of her waistband bit by bit: "It's too late now to think it over again anyhow. With the break of dawn we're back at sea and it's beyond our power to guess what will happen to us from now on."

Caithleen only nodded while she nestled up closer to him: "We lay for anchor within the bay for almost four weeks. Make a guess how long it would have lasted yet. Rosalind spent every single night within the tavern, playing cards, drinking, trying to forget. She left her ship to her crew, did not step aboard and did not care about herself or her crew and if she'll go on that way there won't be a single drop of rum all around the isle of Tortuga any more..."

"What's this? That cynical, love?" Jack gave her a wink tried to dispel her bitterness.

"Jack, don't think I'm a fool. I'm very well aware about the fact that we possibly won't return to Tortuga after we dropped Elianor in London and for sure I'm also aware that Roslind will never forgive us this betrayal." She hesitated for a moment then she cupped his cheeks with her hands and had a deep look into his eyes: "I knew from the first day when we met in front of our little cottage back then that I would be forced some day to make a decision between living my life ashore upon an enchanted little island or together with you aboard a ship on the high seas."

"How did it turn out?" He cocked an eyebrow and gazed at her curiously while his hands slipped under her shirt.

"Don't act the fool, Jack Sparrow. You're already in the know about it. I'm here. Together with you. Aboard my mother's ship. Willing to leave everything behind to live a life at sea." She breathed a kiss upon his lips: "For a life together with you..."

"Although you're able to guess what this could mean?"

"Although I'm able to guess what it could mean." Caithleen leaned in to him and let it happen that he pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it away.

"I know", he whispered: "that I probably should deal with lots of other thoughts within this moment, love, but if I look at you now – sitting upon my lap just wearing this annoying piece of cloth keeping me off of your delicate breasts – I could not care less about Rose, the ship or even the end of the world. Savvy?"

Caithleen smiled and she remarked just before she sealed his lips with a kiss: "I'm already able to feel how less you care about the end of the world..."

Jack's eyes widened in surprise while he felt his cheeks redden the same moment.

The moment passed by and he buried one hand within her hairline to drag her closer and to respond her kiss. Her lips were soft and tasted sweet upon his and he closed his eyes when she opened them slowly to grant him the pleasure to deepen the kiss and to explore her.

She pressed herself close to him and while he started to caress her breasts – still covered with the bandage she used to wear – the silent sighs escaping her slightly opened lips told him that not only he enjoyed his try to seduce her.

Up to that moment when the chair they sat upon together now overbalanced, turned over and let them hit the floor ruggedly.

Jack and Caith beheld each other – puzzled, confused and surprised – then they burst out laughing until they weren't able to breathe any more. Since Patrick's death, the loss of the "Stream" and Rosalind's strange change of behavior throughout the bygone weeks they had avoided each other, had kissed and touched each other only secretly as if it meant to commit a crime to feel joy and love while all the others felt grief and pain.

The whole strain which kept them within its claws for weeks vanished from one moment to the other and they forgot about the place they found each other within, about the point of time and about the chaos they were surrounded by. Jack pushed the chair aside, wrapped his arms round Caithleen and rolled her with a lissome move onto her back that he came to lie upon her tender body. Rested on his elbows he beheld her and struck the hair out of her face.

Oh yes, he desired her, here and now, without wasting one single thought on the idea that someone might be able to see or hear them. Caithleen buried her fingers within his dark strands, freed him from his bandana and let his long curls wrap her in like a soft, flowing cascade of hair.

They melted into an ahungered, longing kiss and Jack's hand slid over her warm skin and slipped under her bandage fiddling around with it until he succeeded in getting it loose. His smile, when he freed himself from his shirt to place her head upon it, was telling and in the most unashamed way seductive Caithleen was able to remember up till now.

Caith wrapped her arms around him, buried her feet into the ground as comfortable as possible and pulled him down on her. She closed her eyes when he started to caress her skin and when he let his lips follow his skilled hands. Her body longed for his and she pushed hers against his. With a look into her face he let his hands cup her youthful breasts. Her eyes flashed open and he smiled when he felt her gaze upon him darkened from passion.

"Don't let me wait any longer", she whispered while her fingers slipped down his back and wound round his hips to drag him closer to her heated skin: "I long for you..."

Her silent words let him shiver and he let out a sigh when his lips searched for their way exploring her slender neck, her reddened lips and her soft skin and when he finally entered her thrusting into her filled with passion there was nothing else he wanted to think about but how much pleasure it caused him to feel her, to hear her sighs and to love her...

~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~

"Captain!" The door of the chart room got torn open and Jacobsen rushed in: "Captain!"

He had a rapid look around a bit confused to find the room obviously empty. Then he spotted the clothes spread all around the room and asked finally after having cleared his throat: "Jack? Caith? Are you there?"

It needed another few minutes until Jack's completely disheveled tuft and his still totally sleepy face came into sight behind the table with the charts upon it. He blinked within the half-light and wanted to get up when something different came to his mind being of that kind that he was obviously not wearing one single piece of cloth any more.

Jack bit his lower lip and grimaced. This did definitely not belong to what ever happened throughout the bygone night. With a somehow uncertain smile he finally asked: "Mister Jacobsen? What's the matter?"

"Captain?" Jacobsen gazed at him as if he wasn't willing to believe that it might be possible that Jack could have forgotten his order: "You wanted us to set sail with the break of dawn. It is..."

"...not already the break of dawn, isn't it?" Jack interrupted him: "Oh bugger!" Rapidly he got up without minding the fact that Jacobsen did not only gazed but stared at him: "What? Anything to spot you haven't already seen up till now? Eh?"

"No! It's just..."

The versed sailor wasn't able to finish his sentence because the same moment Caithleen sat up with a painful sigh: "We will never again do it on the naked floor, Jack Sparrow. I promise..." She shook her head in irritation when she noticed him gesticulating: "What's wrong with you? I only told you the truth. I..." And her gaze met Jacobsen's who stared at her with wide open eyes: "Oh..."

"Pardon, Miss..." He turned round immediately.

"So it's really already sunrise?" Jack hurried to search for his clothes and went on while he slipped in: "Well, let set sail, mate, and let weigh the anchor. I'm already on my way. What are you waiting for? Shoo!"

"Aye, captain! I'm on my way!" Jacobsen turned on his heels and hastened back up to the deck.

As soon as the door closed behind him again Jack reached out his hand to help Caithleen with getting up. He made no secret of his pleasure to watch her searching for her pants, shirt and bandage.

"Do you really think this is necessary?" He pointed towards the bandage she just wrapped round her chest: "I would be much earlier able to cause you pleasure if you would forget about this annoying piece of cloth, love. What do you think?"

"Is that so?" Caithleen shook her curls and held his bandana up in front of his eyes: "Would you do without this?"

"No!" Jack wanted to grasp it but she pulled her hand back: "Oi! Don't tease me, love! I got you... Promise..."

"Well then, captain Sparrow, don't want to take the risk that the crew will maroon you on a godforsaken little island the first day they name you their captain." She laughed and handed his bandana over to him.

He reached out for it and ere she was able to avoid it she lay within his arms and he let his hands caress her back again his gaze filled with relish: "If you'll accompany me to the deck just wearing this, love, your bare skin, I promise that I wouldn't care about the ship, a mutiny to come or any godforsaken island round the seven seas..."

Caithleen blushed up to her ears but he just breathed a kiss upon her lips, wrapped his bandana round his head and went up to the deck...

~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~ooo~~~

Half an hour later the "Eagle's Wing" left the bay of Tortruga and set course towards her new heading – the city of London.


	10. 1718 At London Port

**Chapter 9: 1718 At London Port**

London!

The more the "Eagle's Wing" approached the pulsing heart of the United Kingdom of Great Britain the more silent it became aboard and Jack knew very well that this was not only due to the stunning sight the town offered to its visitors coming upriver from the sea.

The impressive silhouette built from the Houses of Parliament and the infamous Tower with its moats and all those stories it was surrounded by was supposed to be one reason letting the men fell silent but Jack knew that it wasn't the actual reason which caused them to keep their breath. They all were pirates and what would happen to them if this maneuver would go wrong they had not to imagine within their minds but they were just able to convince themselves about it while having a closer look at the riverbank.

Along the river lots of cages could be spotted wherein the mortal leftovers of caught pirates got displayed having not only been tortured and sentenced to death but having also been preserved within tar and serving just one single purpose: As a warning and a deterrence to all those who were secretly or sometimes even openly sympathizing with pirates and piracy and as a spectacle to all the others – townspeople, sailors, merchants and all those feeling summoned to name themselves honest and decent – causing them pure horror or mostly even exhilaration and merriment.

Averseness got mirrored upon Jack's face and he averted his gaze from those pitiable leftovers having once been named a human being. He was young, indeed, but he was very well aware that this did not make him a fool the same moment. He was just eighteen now but he had been forced to witness many shapes of cruelty up till now. They had been one reason why he took flight from Shipwreck Island back then when Patrick found him and took him aboard the"Silver Stream".

He did not cherish an illusion – if they would get behind their mask as honest sailors, if they would be recognized as the ones they used to be they would all end up in a cell and there would be no way out for them but one. The way up to the gallows, a short drop and a certain stop, a barrel filled with tar and finally a cage somewhere on the bank of the river Thames.

He shivered when he thought about it and he was trying to concentrate his thoughts again upon the issue which in actual fact led them here.

Taking Elianor back to London.

And that was what they did.

While they still lay for anchor within the bay of Tortuga Elianor managed to hand a letter addressed to her father over to a merchant sailor who also made berth within the heart of piracy. She wanted her father to prepare their arrival but there was no guarantee that the merchant – and with him the letter – already reached London somewhen earlier than the "Wing". So it was not to foreclose that Elianor's father still wasn't in the know about their arrival.

"We can name ourselves lucky if they won't send a troop of soldiers aboard our ship, let them search it through from its keel up to its masts, put us all together in iron and send us to the gallows!"

Jacobsen joined Jack at the helm and he replied: "Don't forget the courteous treatment they will grant us, mate. First of all lashes, brandings, torture, then the gallows and finally we'll receive a refreshing bath within a barrel full of tar and our own pretty cage with some kind of an extraordinary view about all around the place. Nice, isn't it..."

"Stop joking, Jack!" Jacobsen got shaken by horror. He was barely able to avert his gaze from all those lifeless, preserved figures within the cages whereon crows started to peck: "If I imagine that we could possibly end up like those poor devils over there..."

"It's not as far as now, mate", Jack answered his gaze fixed on the berth he wanted to tie the "Wing" up to: "Believe me, if everything is going according to plan we'll be back at sea soon."

"Yes, lad, if everything will go according to plan. If not we'll stuck in town up till next Spring. By the way. You've a plan?"

"Not really but I can tell you there's always a back door to get out of a mess. If not just tell yourself that you're glad to stay ashore whilst the heavy storms are troubling the sea during the late Autumn and the Winter."

"Maybe you're right but what about the promise that you'll take the "Wing" back to Tortuga immediately?"

"Mister Jacobsen, even Caithleen is aware of the fact that we won't get the possibility of taking her back soon. We will discuss this issue as soon as we took care of the one we promised to care about. Savvy? And now I want you take care about this old lady. I don't want her to break into smithereens just because we missed the opportune moment of taking her to her berth. Aye?"

Jacobsen gave him a smirk and went back to the deck with a murmured 'Aye Captain' and started to drive on the men that the "Wing" could dock. The sails got already reefed and some of the men were busy with tying them up while some fellows ran to and fro at the quay to moor the lines to the berth the crew threw over to them. As soon as this was done the "Wing" let go the anchor with some tremendous rattling. The same moment the crew brought out the gangplank.

Jack grinned. He and Caithleen really made it to take the "Wing" over to England. Together with barely a half crew, a pregnant young lady and a skilled first mate...

Up till now everything was going according to plan - or better it would have if he had one...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"What's going on down there?"

Caithleen frowned and watched Jacobsen who flatteringly gesticulated again and again and who pointed more than once from the ship towards the pier the "Wing" was moored to and vice versa.

Opposite to him – at the end of the gangplank, just one step away from getting ashore stood a man dressed in elegant but much too often worn an therefore weathered looking clothes. Underneath his tricorn he wore a wig and within his hands he held a tray he used to carry several papers around with being pinned to it. Upon a small console fastened to a wooden pile stood an inkwell with a quill inside.

The man was a paper-shuffler, an amanuensis, a person in authority – in short: he was the harbor master and obviously there was something Jacobson wasn't able to explain to him.

"This, love", Jack started: "is exactly that kind of trouble I would have loved to avoid but as it seems it is even exactly that kind of trouble our dear but rough-and-ready companion Jacobsen is not used to. Let's join them and have a look ere he brings his pistol up to the fellow's brow and ere he will take care that we will be sent to where none of us really would like to be sent to..."

"I just hope you're in the know about what to do..."

"Caith, may I ask you something? Since we know each other was there ever just the slightest reason to doubt me?" Jack cocked an eyebrow and gave her an inquiring look.

"I suppose you won't want me to give you an honest reply, am I right, but if I think about our encounter with this Seamus Finch..."

He dismissed her plea with a smile: "Not worth mentioning it. We escaped, forgot that...?"

"You mean Patrick got us out of that mess and let us scrub the deck of both ships for about a whole week as a reward for his help and to his personal pleasure."

"Negligebilities, love, just negligibilities and trifle. Not worth still thinking about it. C'mon, lass, want to know what's really going on there..."

Jack started out sashaying over to join Jacobsen and the harbor-master while Caithleen followed him an expression shown upon her face being a mix of resignation to fate, exhilaration and the know that it was best not to answer back at this moment.

When they reached the two men they heard just yet when the harbor-master said: "You do not look like a man who sails aboard a ship just for a few months. I suppose many years are the better term in this case. So you should be very well in the know that you have to register your ship as soon as you tied it up and that not till then you are allowed to go ashore and to stay there."

"Stop that overblown gibberish, mate, no one's around to understand it, Aye? I'm an old salt as you got before and I went ashore in many ports as you might guess and I never heard anything stupid like that. So step out of my way and let the men take their earned shore leave."

"I'm sorry. I'm acting just according to instructions..."

Before Jacobsen was able to give him a reply or – much worse – do something to him which might be able to increase their trouble immeasurably Jack and Caithleen joint the two brawlers: "Gents! Will you tell me what's going on here? Eh? Something wrong?"

His naive gaze and the undiscerning smile shown upon his lips made the harbor-master turn towards him and let him have a look from his banana down to his boots and back then he asked frowning: "And who are you?"

"I'm nothing less but the captain of this proud vessel, mate. As it were..."

The harbor-master looked at him once again then he held one of his hands in front of his mouth and pretended to cough while he desperately tried to keep his containment and to hide a grin. Finally he asked: "You are the captain? Excuse me, young man, but what makes you believe in the idea of being the captain of this ship? By your leave", he shortly hesitated: "you're still nearly a child."

Jack raised a hand and pointed towards a somehow diffuse spot somewhere between them: "This, mate, is a factual error. I do not believe being the captain of this ship, I know that I am the captain of this ship and because I'm aware of this fact it makes it an immense difference like you for sure will endorse, will you. Aye?"

"Certainly!" The harbor-master shook his head in confusion and had a look on his papers: "Be it as it may you still have to register your ship."

"And you're really sure about this to be necessary? We're not in London to strike bargains or even roots. The only business which leads us here is to take a young lady back to her family, store fresh water and supplies, have as visit within either some taverns or some brothels", Caithleen's elbow hit his side: "Ow! What was that for, love? Did I say that I would..."

"Would you please do me a favor, young man, and let us enlighten this case?"

"Pardon? Where did we stop?"

"The brothel!" The man answered through gritted teeth.

"Ah! The brothel! No one worth to have a visit?" He gave Caithleen a grin and went on: "Not? Well, that's in fact not where we want to drop the lady as you can imagine."

"I already told you before that neither you nor your crew or said lady are allowed to step ashore as long as you won't tell me what ship it is you sail upon, what bargain it is you want to strike in London and who you are..."

Jack rolled his eyes: "No bargains, mate, just want to drop a girl with her family. Savvy?"

"What applies to you, Sir, also applies to your crew and every passenger aboard."

"Listen to me, mate, we stayed aboard this vessel for about more than four weeks. We just want to..."

"Not until you..."

"Is anything in good order?" Elianor appeared on the deck and to everyone's surprise she was dressed like an upper class lady. She even carried a parasol with her she covered her head with. Elianor appeared to be totally innocent and vulnerable amongst the rough sailors.

Unnoticed and secretly she gave Jack a wink and with a grin he turned towards the harbor-master again: "Sir, I can really understand if you want to discuss this case together with us a bit longer but for I'm not in the know how long this bit longer is supposed to be I want to come forward with a proposal. Aye? We all stay aboard as long as this issue is clear but let at least this beautiful young lass leave the ship. Unless", he gazed at Elianor: "you want to take the responsibility if her child let out its first cry right here on a gangplank which is supposed to be possible every minute..."

Jack pointed towards Elianor whose circumstances were already highly visible meanwhile. The more because she wore a dress instead the her loose pants and shirt.

The harbor-master had a puzzled look at the foolhardy young man, then at the young woman. Finally he asked: "What's your name, Miss?"

"Misses!" She corrected him: "Misses Elianor Turner."

The harbor-master nodded – much more mechanical than knowing – and turned round exchanging some words with the guard standing beside the plank on its left and its right.

While he was busy with doing so Elianor whispered into Jack's ear: "You're in the know yet, that I've still more than six weeks left, are you?"

"I am, love, but you will for sure agree that this does not imply that he has to come to know it as well. Eh?"

This time it was Jack who gave her a wink, when the harbor-master turned his attention back on them: "Madam Turner, I ordered these respectable men to take you to your family immediately. If you might be so kind to advise us where this is supposed to be."

"Thank you, Sir." Elianor reached out her hand – more a real lady than a fearless piratess: "It is the house of Sir Edwin Cole. The weaving mill near the river. A little distance outside."

Not only the harbor-master beheld her for a while out of wide open eyes. Even Jack and Caithleen changed a confused look.

Totally unimpressed by it Elianor went on: "And I would like to ask for another favor, Sir. As soon as this issue is clear I would like to ask you to take my companion also to my father's house. Immediately."

The harbor-master winced when she gave him the name of her family: "I know the mansion of Sir Edwin, Madam Turner. I'll arrange everything necessary to be done that your way home will be as comfortable as possible."

His eagerness and his keenness to please the young woman increased fulgurously and while he once again ordered the guard wildly gesturing what to do next Jack nudged Caithleen: "_Sir_ Edwin Cole?"

She grinned and replied: "Obviously there was more than one sweet little secret Bill and Elianor hid from us. Would like to know if Pat and Rose knew about it..."

Elianor turned round and whispered: "It's nothing else but impoverished nobility. Poor but proud. The title does still just exist on paper but the good name of our family is still able to work wonders if necessary. But in fact it's not worth the paper any more its written on. My father owns a mansion and a weaving mill now near the river Thames but it barely leaves any profit. People are buying his work because they know him. And, no, Pat and Rose never came to know it but my father knows who you are..."

With it she smiled a mild smile and entered the carriage the harbor-master called for her.

Jack and Caithleen remained aboard still puzzled and confused.

Just when Jack wanted to shout something after her the harbor-master returned remembering Jack and Caithleen: "Well then, for this issue is clear now we should start from the beginning. Means, what ship is it you sail upon and on which you obviously spent more than four weeks. A lad like you, claiming to be the captain of said ship, two women, a pertly first mate and about two dozen men."

"Well, I've to admit you're right about everything concerning my crew. We arrived in London after having had a crossing from the Caribbean..."

"The Caribbean? Pardon, young man, if I doubt you again, but how is this that you want me to believe that you stayed unchallenged within those pirates polluted waters. It's impossible..."

Somewhere behind them Jacobsen got a coughing fit and turned away.

"Something wrong with the man? No epidemic disease I hope." The harbor-master eyed Jacobsen skeptically.

"Nothing to fear, mate, but" Jack felt how his patience left him with every sentence the exchanged: "to answer your question. It is possible to stay unchallenged. Even within the Caribbean. We're the living proof. We sailed from the Caribbean Islands over to England. Here we are..."

"Then this is your vessel?"

"Ahem, well – no! One could say I would prefer not to come across its usual owner for a while if you can guess what's meant. I fear she would feed me to the sharks with pleasure at the moment."

"Young man, no one is supposed to do something worse to you right here and now. So if you please would be so kind and tell me which name I shall enregister to my list."

Caithleen pushed an elbow to his side: "Do it!"

"Well then", Jack shrugged: "If it will please you. But I'm sure you'll not be willing to believe me."

"Just make a try."

"It's the "Eagle's Wing". We captured her within the bay of Tortuga to take Madam Turner back to England who – how shall I name it – stranded there more or less unwillingly. You can still follow?"

"The "Eagle's Wing"?" The harbor-master stared at Jack out of wide open eyes, recollected himself shortly after and went on: "So you want to tell me you went to Tortuga and stole the ship just to take the girl here?"

"Capture..."

"Pardon?"

"We captured her, the vessel of course, to take Madam Turner here..."

"If it pleases you", the harbor-master shook his head: "Excuse me if I'm barely able to believe this but stories like your's are rather seldom an your story it that strange that it has to be true. I suppose it to be true. So it's really the "Eagle's Wing"? No doubt about it?" Jack nodded and he said: "Then I'll register her name."

"Aye!"

"Then I guess you're also in the know about the fact that a not even small amount of money was advised as a reward for her. A prize might be the better term."

"Aye!"

"And you are willing to leave your vessel to the "East India Trading Comapnay? In exchange for the prize, as you might guess."

"Certain, mate" Jack ignored Caithleen's affected gaze telling him to remember the promise he made.

"Very well then. I will take care that Lord Raginald Beckett will learn about it. He will welcome you himself within the next few days. So may I ask you once again about your name."

"Jack Sparrow."

"Mister Sparrow..."

"Captain!"

"Pardon?"

"It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Sparrow then. You and your crew are free to go ashore as long as you want to. Your ship will be under survey of the East India Trading Company from now on and I will arrange a coach for you and your companion which will take both of you to Sir Edwin's mansion..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Finally sitting within the carriage which should take them to Elainor and her family the strain having kept them in its claws fell off of Jack and Caithleen.

"You are impossible, Jack Sparrow!" Caithleen sat opposite to him and faced him with a grin still not quite sure what he had in mind when he surrendered the "Wing" to the Company: "Would sell my soul to the devil for one single thought of yours."

"What if I'm telling you that I'm very well aware about what I want to do next?"

"How? By proving yourself to be totally daft?"

"Oh, admit it to me, love, that's why you love me, isn't it? Eh?"

Caithleen rolled her eyes: "Don't pride yourself on your pretty face! It could have gone wrong and we all could have ended within the Tower. What if someone finds out that Elianor is married to a pirate?"

"We will have to come up with an idea then, I guess. But", his grin enlightened his face: "don't worry, love. If everything goes according to plan we will get back the "Wing" soon and the latest with Spring we will be back at sea. And you will be her captain, Miss Stevens, not me."

"Oh no!" Caithleen made a repelling gesture: "I'm not meant to be a captain." She grasped his hands and added: "You will sail her back. Rosalind trusted her to you. She always did."

"If she's still willing to listen to us after all we did to her. I fear she will be in a very bad temper and if she is she will send us down to Davy Jones' Locker. Together with her ship. And much worse, I think she will enjoy it."

"I don't want to believe this, Jack. She loves you. You're the son she never had but always wished to have. I can do a lot but in the end I'm just a girl and she always found a way to let me know. She wasn't herself in Tortuga. Blindfolded by grief. I'm sure she will understand our reasons if you'll tell it to her."

"Supposedly you are right, Caith, but it's better not to count on this."

He beheld her for a while. She did change. The girl turned into a woman. Every day a bit more. Into a desirable woman. He longed for her, for her closeness and tenderness. He enjoyed feeling her since he sensed her soft and warm skin next to his, since he had been allowed to taste her sweet lips and since he knew how to cause her and himself every single pleasure he came to know up till now.

Her hair underneath her red bandana got a bit longer and her face was nearly as tanned as his.

He reached out his hand to touch her cheek and to drag her closer: "I would have to name myself a fool if I would ever leave you...Or if I ever would harm you, love..."

He caressed her with his looks but there was something different hidden within his eyes, something Caithleen got aware of when they came across each other for the first time.

A strange hint of sadness often belying his sarcasm, ha distant longing not to catch and barely to spot. Within this moments he turned from a youthful fearnaught into a vulnerable young man.

She wasn't really sure what it was he longed for. First she thought it would be a life like Patrick and Rosaind lived it within their little cottage high above the bay but she knew that this was wrong because he loved his freedom and the sea that much like she did.

And she knew that she was willing to share this life together with him equal where the seven seas would lead them to.

And if that meant to spend nearly her whole life aboard a ship she would do it...


	11. 1718 Letters of Marque

**Chapter 10: 1718 Letters of Marque**

The mansion and the weaving mill belonging to Sir Edwin Cole really lay a little distance outside of London surrounded by meadows and fields and shielded by a small wooded area. It lay close enough to the river to use its waters and far enough away from it to escape its floodwaters in Autumn and Spring.

The mansion itself was built upon a hill, better a heap of earth raised by the hard work of assiduous hands many decades ago. From out of the upper floor it granted a free and stunning view all around the idyllic place, at the river Thames and the opposite bank.

It was already late in the morning and the sun shone directly into the open window of the pretty sleeping chamber Sir Edwin left to them when Jack and Caithleen opened their eyes unwillingly after having spent their first night ashore for about more than three months.

They needed some time to realize that they weren't still aboard the "Eagle's Wing" any more sharing a narrow berth within the captain's cabin but having fallen asleep within a snug chamber somewhere ashore. Amongst sheets made of the finest linen and beddings made of precious damask. And it was also no marine air which poured in but a mélange from several different scents.

Autumn foliage, some last blossoms and the oddly familiar but also unusual scent of vanishing morning mist.

Jack had a look around and grinned: "Would never have expected us to sleep and wake up within a chamber like this some day, love..."

He rolled round that he came to lie face down, grasped his cushion to place his head upon it and kept taps on Caithleen who was mildly smiling and silently mumbling something within her doze. She pulled her blanket up over her shoulder and curled herself again while her black curls spread over her cushion.

Jack just wanted to grasp for her blanket to slip under it beside her when a silent knocking held him off of doing so. One of the women serving Sir Edwin within his mansion stepped in carrying a broad tablet with her opulently filled with lots of delicacies. She placed the tablet on the table near to the window, curtseyed and left the room without having said a single word, keen not to stare at the young couple amongst the rumpled sheets much too obvious. As silently as she went in she also closed the door again.

Rapidly and not little curious Jack got up, grabbed his sheet and wrapped it round his hips then he sneaked over to the table to have a look at the tablet and their deliciously and alluringly smelling breakfast.

"Believe me, love, having a look at this I'm more than ever convinced that we're desperately in need for a new cook before we will set sail the next time..."

"That's what I told Rosalind since she captured the "Wing". I was still a girl back then and nothing has changed up till now." Caithleen stretched and sprawled between the sheets until she finally sat up. She beheld Jack for a while how he fawned round the table and the tablet then she asked with an innocent smile: "Tell me, my beloved captain, what is it the girl provided us with?"

He needed just two steps to reach her then he dropped beside her on the mattress and grinned while he started to drag on her blanket until she had no other choice but to surrender and to get up.

Jack stepped in her way and wrapped her also in one of the sheets then he indicated a bow: "Milady, help yourself the way it will please you the most. It will provide me a pleasure to watch you while doing so..."

Caithleen beheld everything with wide open eyes what was lying and standing on the table in front of her:

Carafes filled with fresh water, juice from sweet oranges and lemonade made of fresh lemons. Small cans with hot tea, coffee and chocolate and a jug of cold milk. A basket filled with fresh and delicate smelling bread being still warm, fluffily cakes and pastries. Cheese, bacon, eggs and golden butter. Honey and syrup, fruits and berries – fresh ones as well as candied ones – and a bowl filled with sweets, truffles and pralines from all around the world.

Caithleen nearly wasn't willing to believe what she saw. She shook her head and remarked: "If this is supposed to be impoverished nobility, how will a breakfast look like with those who are not impoverished I wonder." She took a candied pineapple slice and relished it visible.

"I don't care about it, love, because, you know, none of them will ever have a breakfast like I will have it every day of my life. Savvy?" Jack breathed a kiss upon the bare skin of her shoulder and whispered close to her ear: "They namely will always miss a something I'm supposed to be the only one who will ever own it..."

"Ah! And that'll be?"

"A girl who's scenting from the open ocean. A girl who's able to be that stubborn that even I'm going to get desperate from time to time. A girl who's that sweet and seductive that it is difficult for me to ignore her even if I get into situations where I better should. And a girl on whose lips a drop of honey sticks...Being very inviting to kiss it away from them..."

Jack's eyes were sparkling while he gazed at her lips. He covered them with his and tasted the honey on his tongue while he pushed her slowly backwards until she dropped on one of the comfortable chairs standing round the table. Then he placed himself upon her lap that she wasn't able to escape anymore.

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Sir Edwin had already waited for them to join him when Jack and Caithleen finally found a way out of their chamber about nearly an hour later. Unease got mirrored upon his face and he appeared as if he felt uncomfortable.

"Something wrong, Sir?" Jack beheld him with the same kind of curiosity and with the same kind of self-conception he used to behold Jacobsen with if something aboard the "Wing" wasn't in good order.

Sir Edwin raised his head in surprise: "As it seems I'm a worse actor if you got behind my mask that soon, young man. You astonish me. Shouldn't you care about different things? Things concerning your age?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, if I appear forward but what are things concerning my age? At this moment this concerns me and when we went in it seemed as if you were troubled. And I'm right, am I? Otherwise you would not pace up and down the room again and again at this hour. Hope it's not the devil being after you? Eh?" Jack cocked his head and grinned.

There was no denial possible. Sir Edwin knew it and the boy had been right. He paced up and down the whole room using both its length and its breadth racking his brain and lost in thoughts until the young pirates went in. He knew what they were and he smiled when he remembered their faces after he had told them that he knew during the bygone evening.

Sir Edwin had always been convinced that there was no treasure being much more valuable but freedom and the right to do whatever he wanted to do. To him freedom itself was the treasure and he never understood why most of the people he had to deal with just wasted it. So it had not been a surprise to him when his daughter informed him of having fallen for one of those temerarious fellows causing trouble within the Caribbean. He still smiled when he thought about it but he was very well aware that it would cause him and her trouble as well if anybody would find it out some day.

Sir Edwin Cole snorted.

In his opinion the nuisance or the causing trouble how the influential Trading Companies used to paraphrase piracy reasoned within just one single fact. And this fact was that a few used to take even the last shilling from everyone else to enrich themselves while those everyones had nothing left anymore to live an untroubled life.

This point of view was it which finally cost him his seat within the parliament. Not to his disadvantage like he always pointed out without getting tired about it and although the great days of the Cole family obviously seemed to reach their end he earned enough profit while running the weaving mill to keep the mansion and to nourish the people living and working with him and for him.

No, he knew the young man and the young woman he sheltered within his house to be pirates and it was not this fact which troubled him but the fact those could find it out as well who weren't meant to find it out.

That was why he beheld Jack while stroking his beard: "You're right, young man, I feel unease about the situation we're caught within."

"Sir, if you want us to leave, we will..." Caithleen made a step towards him.

"No, lass, you got me wrong. This was not what I wanted to say." He went over to one of the commodes standing at the wall between the windows and got a piece of paper out of one of its drawers: "Somewhen within the next few weeks my daughter will have a child. Its mother will be Lady Elianor Cole and its father will be a pirate – William Turner - as she told me. So if I would feel troubled about the fact that you two youngsters are pirates as well I would be a bad host. I don't care about what you are. You're allowed to stay within my house whenever you want to. Elianor acts as a guarantor for you. That will do. No, young Mister Sparrow, this is what troubles me." He handed the piece of paper over to Jack and added: "It's addressed to me as well as to you."

Jack had a look at the letter and stopped short: "The East India Trading Company? I know that they expect me but what do they want from you, Sir? And when did you receive this?"

"My dear lad, if you're not in the know about it now let me tell you that it is the East India Trading Company being the most powerful force in England in these days. They keep all strings within their hands – the trade as well as policy and the biggest part of the Royal Fleet. The leader of the Company does not only command the merchant fleet but also a part of the Royal warships. Lord Beckett wants to see you the latest this evening and I want you to take my advice: don't let him wait. I received his letter this morning. It's an invitation to you but to me it is a warning to stay where I am. I've not the slightest ambition to return to policy but there are still some members of the Company who are afraid of the idea I could use my whilom influence. Let me warn you, young fellow, you and your lass. You will sail in dangerous waters as soon as you come across Beckett. Beware of sailing into its shallows. Then you'll be lost."

"I think the worst which could happen to us are the gallows. Aye?" Jack replied with a shrug.

"You've no idea, Jack Sparrow, what this really means. I would feel much easier if this experience would be spared from you and your bonny lass."

"Sir Edwin, I made it up to London together with barely a half crew and a captured ship. I promise I won't take the risk to end up within one of those cages I was able to spot alongside the riverbank. Believe me or not but I can assure you I know that I will not die ashore some day..."

Jack had another look at the letter. Ordered by the Company a carriage would take him and Caithleen to town this afternoon.

~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~

A few hours later Jack and Caithleen found themselves within the noble rooms being the headquarter of the East India Trading Company – in the company of its most important representative and its leader.

The room they had been led to was huge and did not resemble any of those small offices being usual for the majority of trading houses all around the seven seas. Its ceiling and its walls were wainscotted with precious wood and its marmoreal floor was covered with valuable carpets.

In one corner of the room some chairs surrounded a small table whereon various glasses were placed as well as several bottles and carafes of wine, brandy and liqueur. A world map nearly covered the whole wall behind the impressive writing desk their host sat at.

A bookcase – nearly reaching the ceiling – and several commodes – every single of them also made of the most expensive tropical woods – stood at the walls all around the room and amongst about a dozen candle holders and lanterns hung several portraits showing the former leaders of the Company.

A fireplace caused a cozily warmth and through the half closed curtains floated some diffuse light just Autumn was able to create.

Upon the writing desk lay lots of letters, contracts, documents and an amount of quills as well as an inkwell. But the most impressive thing within this room – immediately catching Jack's eye – were the two model ships standing amongst some other nautical instruments on the mantleshelf.

Jack and Caithleen changed a puzzled look. These model ships were exact replications of the "Silver Stream" and the "Eagle's Wing". Jack answered Caithleen's inquiring gaze with a shrug. Whatever the meaning of this was supposed to be about there must be a reason for it.

Finally their attention got caught by the man who invited them to keep him company today.

Lord Reginald Beckett was a respectable man of advanced age. His face with its sharp and aristocratic facial features resembled an eagle. The same applied to his gaze out of powder blue eyes. Proud and rigidity were shown upon his face and to the surprise of many of his visitors the hint of some well hidden humor. He was the principal shareholder and the leader of the East India Trading Company and he owned the sole power to act and the sole freedom of decision.

Not only the merchant fleet sailed under his command but also a notable amount of Royal Navy warships which meant also that he had several hundred men in arms under his command as well.

Lord Reginald Becket was a legendary and feared pirate hunter but even when he caught many of them and caused them an unworthy dead he had a fine sense if he came across a man who could be of use for him. So it happened that not only dozens of pirates ended their life at the gallows because of his successful hunts but that likewise a not even small amount of them sailed for him as privateers vested with fast ships and letters of marque signed by the Crown of England.

Beckett was very well aware that the young man and the young woman standing in front of him right here and now could prove themselves as extraordinarily useful – if, yes, if their story was true.

It was a fact that the ship he desired most beside the "Silver Stream" was moored to one of the piers at the London port now. In a very good condition.

Those two adventurers claimed having captured it out of the bay of Tortuga, out of the heart of piracy within the Caribbean.

The truth?

A lie?

Be it as it may he had not in mind to show himself narrow-minded.

Without addressing the two youngsters personally he turned towards Jack and Caithleen and asked suddenly:" You know why I wanted you here?"

"Aye, Sir", Jack replied: "It's all about nothing less but the "Eagle's Wing" I suppose. The only thing I wonder about is why you want her twice. You already own her if I can trust my eyes. Eh?" He pointed towards the model ship which resembled the "Wing" out at the pier from her masts down to her smallest hatch.

"Call it the obstinacy of old age, young man, but to free you from wondering you should know that both ships already belonged to the Company long before you and your charming companion had been given birth to." Beckett smiled a nebulous smile and went on: "And I regard it as being my personal duty to get both ships back under my command. For sure you can understand my point of view."

"Of course I can, Sir, but I fear there is a kind of miscalculation within your personal duty. Unless you want to search through the deepest depths of the sea in order to find the "Silver Stream". A hopeless undertaking if I think it over..."

Beckett raised his head in surprise and Jack asked himself if the leader of the East India Trading Company had really not been in the know about the fact that one of those ships having obviously such a deep meaning to him got already scuttled by the Spanish.

"So according to this she's a total loss?" His voice sounded the same afflicted and disappointed.

"Yes, Sir, that she is. The Spanish captured her close to an isle within the Caribbean Sea. There's nothing left from her but debris and memories."

"These are sad news, young man, but one more reason to talk to you today then. But until we will go on answer me one additional question. How did the "Eagle's Wing" get under your command?"

"We captured her within the bay of Tortuga. Exactly the way I already tried to explain it to the harbor-master when we made berth yesterday. We – means my crew and I – had the order to take Miss Cole back to London by any means and equal aboard which ship and because one the "Wing" lay for anchor within the bay for weeks and two Captain Stevens seemed not to care about her while being much more interested in decimating the supplies of rum all around the isle we took over the ship. Successfully as you for sure already convinced yourself of. Now she's under your command again, Lord Beckett. A prize of the Company."

Reginald Beckett beheld the young man who told him his story without hesitation and who gazed at him expectantly out of soft brown eyes. He and the girl were still rather children but sailors but however they already seemed to understand how to deal with a ship and how to mind the sea. He had no doubt that this Jack Sparrow really told him the truth and that everything happened exactly the way he explained it.

That was why he nodded: "Mister Sparrow, I'm willing to believe your story. You brought the ship to London and it's back in my possession again. So you really and honestly earned the prize the Company offered on the "Eagle's Wing". Therefore I will initiate that you will receive the not even small amount of money as soon as possible. Is there anything else the East India Trading Company is able to do for you or your companion?"

Jack had not to think about it for long. He changed a rapid look with Caithleen but she only nodded. So he replied: "Lord Beckett, I assume you will heel and mend the "Wing" throughout Autumn and Winter to make her ready for the sea again. Am I right?"

"That's exactly what I have in mind, young man."

"So she will be back at sea in either case?"

"As soon as the mending is done..."

"She will be in need of a captain then. Aye?"

"And you would love to be said captain?"

Jack grinned: "Yes, I would love to be her captain then..."

~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~

"You stroll in here, dare to claim having captured the ship without firing off one single shot, dare to brush the prize and dare to point out that you want to return aboard said ship as her captain? Please!"

The undertone of the voice answering him instead of Beckett now was sneering in that special kind of way being mostly accompanied by some subliminal threads.

From out of the shadows of the rear part of the room a young man joined them. He had just witnessed the conversation silently up till now and had merely turned round from time to time. Now he got up from out of his chair, sashayed over to them and stopped close to Beckett behind the writing desk.

Jack wasn't able to say what it was but he nearly felt the barely restrained hostility physically coming from the young man opposite to him.

He looked into his face – curious and attentive:

The young man's face was pale like being powdered and it owned that smug and arrogant expression obviously meant to demonstrate superiority. The powdered wig placed upon his head appeared as flawless as the clothes he was dressed in.

Jack supposed him not to be much older than he was himself, if at all, with one important difference: this young snooty-nosed little upstart had never ever suffered from a lack of comfort, he had never ever suffered from hunger or coldness and he had never ever lifted a finger to earn all his privileges.

Therefore he replied with a shrug without really being impressed: "I captured the ship. Aye! And I do not care if you believe me or not. I know that I did. That's the truth and I dare to claim that it would not be a bad bargain neither for you nor for the Company if you would name me captain of the "Eagle's Wing". I can take her into waters no other captain would be able to."

"Certainly! Because you can assure yourself of a ternary benefit then, am I right? You'll get the prize the Company offered on the ship, you'll get the ship and I assume you'll get also the prize the former owner of said ship for sure offered meanwhile to the one taking it back to him. You don't want to make us fools, don't you?"

Jack beheld the young man from his well-kept wig down to his polished boots then he answered with a smirk: "Thereupon you don't want an honest reply, mate, won't you?"

"Tempering yourself, pirate!" The other nearly spat the words out.

"Pirate! Ah, that's edifying to hear something dirty coming from your tongue. What do you know about piracy and pirates? Except the part how to hang them of course. I am no more the fool you would love to take me for than you are. The prize you mentioned just before would consist of a broadside, mate. What else do you think would happen to me if I would be that stupid to really search for Madam Stevens? She would ere scuttle her ship than to know it sailing under the command of the East India Trading Company. In this case the ship would be lost to both of us. Savvy? Thought about that before?"

"Then you're either no pirate or much more down-and-dirty than any of your cullies."

Jack just shook his head: "I'm nothing of it at all, mate. I just had to learn that it is much more profitable to sail for my own account. You should really act a bit less distrustful. I know nothing about you and you know nothing about me. So it's a bargain built upon mutuality. What do you have to lose, mate. At least it's me taking the risk of getting possibly scuttled..."

"Or hanged, Mister Sparrow! You should always think about this possibility as one of the possibilities probably waiting for you. For sure you noticed the cages standing alongside the riverbank. How would it please you if I tell you that one of them will wait for you someday..."

"Stop that!" Lord Raginald mingled in now: "Forgive my son, Mister Sparrow, but his one and only interest is based on the profit and the expansion of the East India Trading Company. He would love to eliminate everything which could cause a disadvantage for us and I think some day he will do it. At least he's supposed to become my follower some day. Cutler Beckett."

The young men still matched each other with looks then it was Jack who turned towards Lord Reginald again: "Well, until it is as far as and until he will start eliminating every disadvantage it seems as if you're still the one I should negotiate with. What say you, Sir? Will you dare to trust the "Wing" to a pirate like your son paraphrased it that excellently before?"

"Captain Sparrow, to me you seem to be a really extraordinarily temerarious and foolhardy young man. If I should trust you is a thing you should know better. I for my part will dare to trust the "Wing" to you. This is what I can offer to you: During the winter months you will receive an employment with the Company. Your nautical knowledge could be of great use for our chart drawers and you will advise them. With Spring you will – according to your wish – set sail as the captain of the "Eagle's Wing". You will be a privateer in the name of the King of England and a buccaneer in the name of the East India Trading Company. You and your crew will earn ten percent of every successful prey and you will – if necessary – carry freight over to the colonies in New England. We will reconstruct the "Wing" with regard to her new purpose. Make your decision and I will take care that you will receive the letters of marque signed by the King within a week's time."

Jack looked at Caithleen.

He thought about something, then he nodded: "The decision is made, Sir, under one condition: my crew, my first mate and my girl remain aboard. Particularly my girl. She's my helmsman..."

"A woman aboard?"

Young Beckett wrinkled his nose while the old Lord smiled a knowing smile: "You don't care about such superstitions? That's exhilarating. If she knows how to deal with the helm she's allowed to stay aboard. The same applies for your crew and your first mate. If this is all we're finally in agreement. I will send the letters of marque and your contract over to Sir Edwin's house. And now I want you to wait outside for a moment. My son will take care immediately that a coach will take you home."

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Outside the East India Trading Comapny's headquarter Jack dragged Caithleen into his arms: "We made it, love! We finally made it. With Spring we will be back at sea and the "Wing" will be ours again..."


	12. 1719 The Spanish Galleon

**Chapter 11: 1719 The Spanish Galleon**

The winter months passed by within a twinkling of an eye and Lord Reginald Beckett kept his promise made in Autumn.

With the first days of Spring the "Eagle's Wing" was not only ready for the sea but in addition she was also totally built round. Another steerage had been built in separating the crew's quarters from the hold and the stowage now granting the men a bit more room for their belongings.

The Captain's cabin got enhanced by including the small cabin Jack and Caithleen inhabited as long as they sailed aboard the "Wing" when she was still under the command of Rosalind Stevens using it for additional space and the chart room got furnished with a new table on which more than one chart could be spread.

The sails – having always just been patched whenever necessary – got replaced by new cloth and even the rigging had been changed up to the last lines and hawsers. Because the Winter had been mild Beckett's men had been able to work without hesitation and so it happened that the "Eagle's Wing" was resplendent with fresh color and under white canvas.

With the exception of two officers he chose himself Beckett left the decision which men to choose for his first privateer raid to Jack and meanwhile the young Captain had an obviously superb crew aboard. Every man a volunteer, no man forced into duty aboard like it more often than not happened when the Royal Navy shanghaied men to man their ships and to fill their crews up.

There was more than one reason supposed to lead so many volunteers aboard the "Wing". One of them was for sure the not even small amount of pay the East India Trading Company was willing to guarantee the men. The second was the promised share of the plunder. Ten percent of every prey additionally to the already granted pay was more than most of the men ever had. But the two most important reasons to hire aboard this privateer vessel were that the young Captain appeared as not to be an oppressor and that some of the men had in mind to share their berth with the bonny lass who would accompany them on their journey as the ship's helmsman.

Already a few days after their first meeting with Lord Reginald Beckett the chairman of the East India Trading Company kept his promise and sent a messenger over to the mansion of Sir Edwin Cole who handed not only the letters of marque over to Jack but also a casket filled to the brim with gold and a document signed by Beckett himself which identified Jack as the rightful owner of said casket and the letters.

It was the prize the Company once had rewarded for the "Eagle's Wing".

Elianor agreed to keep both the document as well as the casket that long until Jack and Caithleen would need it some day. It was much more save within Sir Edwin's house but aboard a ship.

As always in Spring when the ships of the trading companies set sail with the first tepid winds a not even small amount of onlookers and rubbernecks assembled at the piers to witness the spectacle.

Whispering and murmur accompanied the arrival of Sir Edwin's coach because everybody all around the place knew it to be an open secret that he and Lord Beckett used not only to be of different opinion if it came to politics. Therefore it was a seldom occasion when both men met at the pier today.

Within the coach Jack, Caithleen and Elianor changed some totally different thoughts.

"Tell me, love, why do I have the unmistakable feeling that there are irreconcilable strains between your father and good ol' Lord Beckett? Eh?" Jack watched curiously how both men changed meaningless flowery phrases.

Elianor let out a sigh: "Because I fear it will be exactly those irreconcilable strains which will lead my father to his downfall sooner or later."

"Your father is a popular man", Caithleen took into consideration: "Why do you believe someone could be willing to harm him?"

"Because I do not only believe it, Caith. I know it and it's no secret. What do you think how long it will need until we will cause tongues to wag? Me, my child and my father? If there is no father to the child. If I'm really married. Where my husband is supposed to stay. If I'm still a lady or just a sailor's whore." With a tired smile she slowly swayed the baby within her arms which was contentedly smacking within its sleep.

"It's all just idle talk, love. We both promised to you to search for Bill Turner where ever we will make berth. Although it won't become an easy task because he's a bloody pirate who might be supposed to hang around elsewhere round the seven seas. But, trust me, if there is a chance to find him we'll find him and if we'll find him we'll take him back to you."

"I know him to be still alive, Jack. He must be, I've no doubt about it." Elianor's reliance was true despite the fact that the three of them were all in the know about the fact that the truth could possibly tell a different story.

That was why Jack gave her a wink and said with a shrug: "Believe me, love, sooner or later you'll be not in the know any more about of which of both Williams you should take care first." He carefully stroked the baby's cheek and the little boy with his dark tuft chuckled satisfied: "You certainly will wish soon that one of them will take his heels as soon as possible again aboard a ship... And it will not be young Will here I suppose..."

Caithleen smirked when a tiny little hand clasped Jack's finger: "Oh, have a look, Jack Sparrow. As it seems you've a wonderful intuition for saying and doing the right thing within the right moment."

"Is that so?" He gazed at Caithleen and his look told her more than a single word would ever have been able to.

Within the same moment Elianor's next remark let them both blush up to their ears: "Well then, sooner or later both of you will come to know how it feels on your own. And if I have a look at you I think the results are not supposed to become ugly..."

"That will do for now, love!" Jack cleared his throat, apparently bashful: "Got me? Let's finish this right here and now. At the moment it will do that we fulfilled Patrick's and Bill's wish. You're in a safe place now and young Will as well." He had a last glance at the baby then he added: "It's time for us to leave now. There is a new life waiting for us out there. Privateers in the name of the King. Let's find out what it is worth. But it would not be amiss to wish us some luck. We could be in use for it. Aye?"

"You know both that my father's house will always be ajar for you whenever you'll stay in London."

"We will remember it when we're back." Caithleen changed a long last gaze with Elianor then she and Jack jumped out of the coach – each of them with a bundle of clothes over their shoulder – and hurried to get aboard their ship.

Ere they reached the gangplank Lord Beckett waved them towards him: "Captain Sparrow! Miss Stevens! May I have a moment?"

He bid farewell to Sir Edwin – not really reluctant – and turned towards the young pirate serving the King now: "The ship now belongs to you. I'm of no expectancies about the prey you will carry back here at the end of your journey but nevertheless I think you're very well in the know about the fact that every captured ship will be a benefit for you and your crew."

I'm very well aware of it, Lord Beckett. I suggest we will talk about this issue at the time when the "Wing" will be back in London in Winter. Aye?"

Jack indicated a bow, had a last look at Sir Edwin's coach and turned round to go aboard his arm wrapped round Caithleen's shoulder.

"Are you still convinced this decision to be really the right one?" Caithleen whispered while they went up to the deck.

"We will come to know this much earlier than we want to, I fear, love", Jack replied and for a split second a shadow darkened his eyes...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The first weeks at sea passed by in a quiet mood and without extraordinary incidents until some early morning the cry came from the crow's nest: "Sail ho! Straight ahead!"

Jacobsen – being on watch and shortly before falling asleep – was wide awake the same moment and his look followed the direction the man up in the crow's nest pointed at.

And really far away on the horizon a tiny little thing was to spot which obviously sailed a direct course towards the "Wing".

He called up: "Can you make out under what colors they sail?"

"Aye, Sir", the answer came immediately: "It's a Spaniard!"

"Is it a warship or a merchant vessel?"

"Cannot spot it at the moment, Sir. At least not yet!"

"Very well then. Keep a watchful eye upon them!"Jacobsen ordered: "Will inform the Captain."

"Aye, Sir!"

Jacobsen nodded and went below to wake up the crew: "Get up boys! Hurry, you lazy deck rats! As it seems we'll come across our first prey today! And now up to your stations! Want movement! More canvas! Let's see if we won't be able to gain some more speed in order to meet them."

Laughter followed his words and while the men started to prepare the "Wing" for a possible seafight Jacobsen hurried towards the Captain's quarters to inform Jack about the very welcomed diversion from their daily duties. He knew the crew would work with ardent zeal to please their Captain – they were all hungry for their first prey.

Jack raised his head when his first mate entered the chart room. He cocked an eyebrow and asked: "What's up, Mister Jacobsen? What's the meaning of this flurry up there?"

"You will be glad to hear that a Spanish galleon is on its way to sail straight into our longing arms."

"Indeed, I am glad to hear this, mate, but as long as we're not sure what kind of ship it is a hint of distrust might be appropriate, don't you think as well. Mister Jacobsen? So if it's a merchant vessel – which is supposed to be the only consequential explanation – it's on its way back to Spain and it's fully loaded because it sails straight from their colonies."

Jack jumped up and spread one of his sea charts on the table. He pointed at a spot on the chart determinedly and said: "We're here. If it's true that the Spanish are sailing a course leading them straight towards us we're not in a hurry. Quite the contrary. We should show a little patience."

"Show patience?" Jacobsen asked in confusion: "Captain, I just ordered more canvas. I don't understand why you want us to stay inactive."

"Not worth mention it – the canvas, I mean." Jack waved Jacobsen's doubts aside with a laxly gesture of his hand: "And I don't want you and the men to stay inactive, just patient. That's a difference, mate. Just want you to hoist a signal. Signalize them that we're in need for help."

A profound smile appeared upon Jack's lips and an astucious shimmer was within his eyes when he gazed at the puzzled Jacobsen: "What?"

"Sorry, if I'm not really able to follow your plan, lad. Why want you to signalize them that we're in need for help. Makes no sense."

"Does not? Tell me, Mister Jacobsen, how long is it that you sail the seven seas?"

"As long as I can remember."

"Aye! As long as you can remember. And how long is it that you decided to become a pirate, mate? Long enough I dare to make a guess. So, where are we?" Jacobsen gazed at him like having lost it and he went on: "Well, on the open ocean, mate! No sailor would deny his help to another in a situation like this."

"But why all this effort, Jack? Wouldn't it be enough to fire a broadside close to their bow? If they get who we are they will surely lay down arms willingly. This would also mean less effort."

"Yes, mate, it would, but we would waste powder and cannon balls. Aye? And if it's not a merchant vessel they won't hesitate to send us down to the depths. So that's why I'm not willing to share your well meant eager, mate. Don't you get it? I've not in mind to scuttle the Spanish. I want to capture her and everything valuable, worthwhile and precious she's carrying within her interior. Savvy?"

"Jack, you know it's dangerous to let them sail away afterwards."

"There is no reason to kill the crew and to scuttle the ship. For sure we are privateers in the name of the King of England now but this does not make me a murderer. Did you get this, mate?"

"Aye, Captain!"

"Finally! So, I want you then to prepare the men that we won't lunge at the Spanish with might and main but with using deceit. Let me know when the Spanish are at close quarters. They will get a surprise they won't forget for a rather long time."

"I'm already on my way!" When Jacobsen wanted to hurry out of the door he nearly ran into Caithleen: "Sorry, Miss Caith. Captain's Orders!"

He greeted her, pushed past her and left her without answering her inquiring gaze.

When Jack got aware of her he waved her to come closer: "Ah! Love! Come in! I will explain everything to you you have to know."

"Oh!" Caithleen closed the door behind her and perched herself upon the edge of the table vis a vis to him expectantly looking at him: "I'm all ears, Captain Sparrow!"

"Out there somewhere on the horizon this year's first prey is waiting for us and I'm hell bent to obtain it by fraud instead of fight."

"So that's the reason for Jacobsen's puzzled mien when he rushed out of the door? I see. Deceit then instead of gun smoke. Well thought out, but what if the Spanish are not inclined to play your game?"

"In a case like that we still can fight. But", Jack made a laxly gesture hinting that he was not expecting much resistance: "I don't believe that we have to. If it's a merchant vessel – and that is what I guess – it must have lost its escort. Due to heavy weather, mist, a storm or something else like this. It's of no meaning to us. They will be glad because we will leave them alive, our men will be glad because they finally will get their first prey, Lord Beckett will be glad because the "Wing" will not sustain any damage – so what else could we be willing to want? Gladness all around us. Funny isn't it? Eh?"

"And you really believe that they will hand their whole charge over to you without fighting?" Caithleen frowned being in doubt: "Don't forget about the fact that not only the English merchant vessels are heavily armed nowadays."

"Trust me, love, I'm not intending to pad into a trap blindly. I've a good feeling with this venture. What can I do to dispel your doubt?"

"I..."

Ere she was able to give him a reply he grasped her by her wrist and dragged her from the table's edge over to him that she came to sit upon his lap. His gaze out of his dark eyes wandered down her whole figure until it rested cavalierly upon the soft roundings of her breasts shown underneath her shirt. His hand searched for its way up her back until he buried it within her hairline.

She did not resist when he dragged her down to him and he grinned when he got aware of her slightly opened lips.

Before he pulled her into a kiss he said: "I wished we would have much more time to finish this here and now, my sweet Caith, but I fear we won't have it. Although..."

He interrupted himself not willing to get robbed of this moment of tenderness and breathed a kiss upon her lips. Gently first then with growing passion and when Caithleen pressed herself against him a smile enlightened his eyes.

His brow leaned against hers he broke the kiss and whispered: "As it seems I'm not the only one who would prefer to do without hunting for the Spanish, am I right, love..."

"But we've no choice..." She replied.

"True enough!" He sighed.

Before he was able to kiss her again the cry came from the crow's nest: "It's a merchant vessel And there is still no escort to spot..."

Jack freed himself from out of their embrace with a grimace and explained with another sigh: "I promise, we will catch up on everything tonight, love..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

It was already near sunset when the men carried the last chests, caskets and sacks from the Spanish merchant vessel over aboard the "Eagle's Wing". They were all in good temper and they laughed and sang while they stowed their proper prey below within the freight room.

Solely the share of this first prey would already be enough for some of them to keep their families from hunger for a whole year – as long as they would not squander it within the taverns and the whorehouses as soon as they would make port the next time.

The merchant vessel fell into their lap like some ripe fruit and the deceit their Captain decided to use did work without fail – the "Wing" hadn't fired one single ball to make the Spanish hoist the flag of truce. And really there were no dead aboard both ships and only a few not really seriously wounded.

Their Captain decided to let the Spanish sail along as soon as his crew was completely back aboard.

Up till then the first mate – Jacobsen – had a weather eye on everything what was going on aboard both vessels.

While he had ordered one part of the men to take care of the Spanish officers and their crew Jack and Caithleen sat below within an elegant parlor of nearly the same size than the crew's quarters. With the exception that the room being paneeled with tropical wood and equipped with every thinkable kind of splendor just got shared by the Spanish Captain and his guests:

The ambassador in the name of the Spanish King for the colonies in South and Middle America – Don Hernán Escobar – and his daughter.

Jack had let himself drop into one of the velvet covered chairs, his feet placed upon the table. His sword and his pistol in reach within his lap. He beheld the two men and the young woman within a mix of amusement and scorn.

"It is really remarkable that while you and your guests share this floating palace aboard your ship your crew obviously has to sleep within their hammocks by turns because there is not enough space for all of them at the same time. Don't you think as well this to be a bit strange, Capitán Mendoza?"

"You will pay for your impertinence at the gallows", the Spanish Captain snorted: "You dared to plunder the ship of the ambassador of the King of Spain!"

"Really?" Jack gazed curiously at the second man: "Well if it is that way, what do you think your life will be worth to the King of Spain then, Don Hernán? Do you think it's worth the same amount of gold as the prey is my crew takes aboard my vessel right now?"

"Barely!" Escobar answered: "But I think his Majesty would be intended to send his whole Armada after you." The Spanish ambassador made no secret of the fact that he would love to see the young pirate got hanged right on the spot.

"The heyday of the Spanish Armada is over since the English burnt and scuttled its ships and sent them to the deep depths of the sea about two-hundred years ago. So, you should come up with something much better to threaten me and think about it for a moment, gents, what to say about the Captains of your highly praised Armada if they do not get that they lost the ship they should escort during a storm."

"They will find you! You and the whole vermin hiding within the Caribbean and being up to no good all around the seven seas! It will cause me pleasure to watch how all of your ships and all you bastards will be burnt on the open ocean some day!" The young woman slammed her hand upon the table and got up her eyes dark from fury.

"This anger fits you well, lass! Maybe I should take you aboard my vessel instead of your father. I'm sure to save your life the King of Spain would pay a double ransom." Jack answered with amusement.

"Jack!" Caithleen shook her head: "Don't forget that you've a crew of men aboard who did not come across a woman for weeks now. How would you explain it if we would get the gold and hand her back over without being untouched or – much worse – without being unharmed?"

The young Spanish lady gasped for air: "You wouldn't dare it!"

Caithleen grinned: "I for my part would not but even the Captain would not be able to keep the men from taking what they long for. If you get what I want to tell you..."

"You're also a woman! How can you live amongst such miscreants?"

"Contrary to you, Senorita, I got raised by such miscreants. Whereat while thinking about what happens aboard this vessel it is allowed to ask who of us are the real miscreants. The men aboard our vessel or the men aboard your vessel who made our crew what it is. Men like your father who took everything away from the poor devils."

"That will do, love!" Jack mingled in again: "None of us will get hanged or end within Davy Jones' Locker. At least not today. We for our part got what we came aboard for. In return you, Captain Mendoza, and your crew will stay alive and keep the ship, you, Don Hernán, will stay free and alive and you, young Missy, will stay alive and won't lose your cherry. A fair bargain, isn't it? What say you, mates? Lady?"

"You are presuming!" The young woman hissed.

"And ruthless!" Mendoza added.

Jack wasn't able anymore to give him a reply because within the same moment Jacobsen got in: "Captain, the crew got everything aboard. What next?"

Jack grinned then he gazed at Mendoza first, then at Don Hernán. At last he gazed at the young lady with a meaningful look: "Mister Jacobsen. Want the men to fell all masts except the main mast. Leave them just enough canvas to get back to Spain unharmed. I assume you took the powder aboard the "Wing" as well as the munition. Aye?"

"Aye, Captain. That's what we did."

"Good man! Hurry then, don't want to strike roots." While Jacobsen went up to the deck again, Jack grasped for his weapons and got up: "For sure you will understand my decision, will you? I cannot take the risk that you supposedly might scuttle us or follow us. No offense meant, mate, but I've to take care of my own vessel as well."

"You leave us here within the open ocean without a possibility to defeat us?" The Spanish Captain foamed.

"You're not helpless! I just convince myself that you won't be able to sail another course but the one back home to Spain. Gentlemen, Milady", he gazed at the girl again: "you will never forget the day when you got pirated by Captain Jack Sparrow."

He gave Caithleen a wink, wrapped an arm round her waist and wanted to return to the deck together with her when something came to his mind. He turned towards the girl again and said: "Senorita, may I ask one last question? Why did you not shoot me although you hid your small pistol underneath your hanky the whole time..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" Caithleen beheld the chest in a mix of curiosity and distrust standing in the middle of the Captain's cabin, being over and over adorned with intricated carvings and painted within bright colors.

She nearly stumbled into the gorgeous piece of furniture within the sparse light of that one single candle she carried with her. The men had let it stand right on the spot where they had dropped it.

"What do you mean?" Jack sashayed into the cabin behind her and stopped short: "Oh!"

"You know what the meaning of this is?" Caithleen's gaze wandered from the chest over to Jack and back to the chest.

"Love, this extraordinary wooden piece of jewelry belongs to you from now on."

Jack grinned and she was able to spot the shimmer within his eyes. Then he hurried to enlighten some lanterns and candles all around their cabin that they were both able to have a closer look at the chest and its contents.

Caithleen opened the heavy cask cover and after one moment full of strain her eyes widened in surprise – then she started laughing.

She reached into the chest and what she got out were – dresses!

Every single of it made from the most precious brocade, the softest velvet and smoothest silk. They all were adorned with skillful made embroideries, perfect pearls or laces. The fitting shoes she found inside the chest as well as a casket filled with jewels, hairpins and combs. Even flimsy undergarments, stockings and corsages in the fitting colors lay inside.

The woven fabric felt pleasing within her hands but nevertheless Caithleen asked with some hint of sarcasm within her voice: "Don't tell me you want me to take the helm of your vessel dressed in one of these, Jack Sparrow!?"

"No, love, that's not what I want you to do. I would be much too jealous to let something stupid like this happen. Just to think about the idea another one could be allowed to behold what takes my breath away again and again seems to me to be unbearable."

He gently grasped her with her shoulders and beheld her with that unique gaze only a lover beheld his beloved with: "Nothing of this stuff being hidden within this chest can be able to make you much more desirable to me than you already are, Caithleen Stevens."

Using the back of his fingers he gently struck her cheek, down her her slender neck until he reached her shoulder again. He smiled when he got aware of his reflection within her gray eyes: "You caught me, my fearless, pretty pirate lass. Of all times gone by and all times to come. I can see it in your eyes."

His hands cupped her cheeks and while their gazes melted into each other he sealed her lips with a first tender kiss. He needed not long to get much more demanding, much deeper and more and more passionate and she let it happen that he started to explore the sweet depth of her mouth.

"You taste from spiced wine, from honey and sweet almond, love", he whispered close to her ear somewhen and she felt the fine hair rise covering her arms when he started to caress the sensitive skin of her earlobe.

Caithleen closed her eyes and surrendered to his skilled hands being able to send languorous shivers through her whole body – even through the fabric of her shirt. A silent laughter slipped over his lips when he loosened the strings holding her pants and when the piece of cloth fell to the ground with a silent rustling.

"I promised it to you, sweet Caith", he whispered and pushed her back towards their berth step by step: "This night will belong to you."

Jack let himself drop amongst the cushions dragging her with him. He grinned when she came to lie upon him: "A truthfully inspiring sight it is, I can assure you."

His unabashed gazed wandered down to her neckline and within just a split second he had freed her from her shirt and the bandage she wore under it.

"So, to you this is supposed to be fair?" Caithleen bent over him her lips close to his without kissing him.

"Yes, love, that's what it is." Jack smiled while his warm hands slid over her chilled and tender skin until they cupped her breasts somewhen carefully caressing their sensitive tips. Caithleen's silent sighs next to his ears convinced him that she enjoyed it and he went on causing her pleasure.

When he sat up holding her close she let her gaze sink into his eyes and he was totally captured. The mild candlelight threw a warm shimmer upon her skin and the dancing flames enwrapped her within an exhilarating play of shadow and light.

His breath was hot when it met the bare skin of her neck and longing was within his words: "If I would have to decide what it is you should waer I would want you to wear nothing else but this stirring shadow play, love."

She didn't give him a reply but dragged upon his shirt until she finally freed him from it. To feel her skin next to his let his wish to feel her and to take her nearly grow overwhelming.

He held her close when he let himself down on his back again, he held her close when he looked deep into her eyes and he held her close when he rolled her on her back with one single fluent move.

Caithleen wrapped her arms round him and pulled him into another kiss. She surrendered to the feeling his lips left upon hers, left upon her neck, upon her shoulders and when he started to caress the tender tips of her breasts again.

She gasped for air, wrapped one of her legs round his hips and raised hers against his.

Jack grinned: "Just one more moment of patience, love. Have to get rid of the last piece of cloth still preventing me from getting that close to you we both long for."

His fight with his belt and the strings holding his pants lasted longer than he had expected and with a silent curse upon his lips he finally got rid of them. It was the last hindrance keeping him away from feeling his Caith and from watching her surrender to him.

He loved the expression shown within her eyes when he entered her inch by inch. He loved her slightly opened lips her silent sighs escaped from when he started to move inside her, when he started to thrust into her.

And he loved to kiss away the sweet tears of lust from her cheeks when she came and lay within his arms – panting for air, covered with sweat, her eyes dark from passion and her lips reddened from his kisses.

And he loved her, he desired her and he felt his feelings for her grow after every kiss they changed, after every night they shared, after every sigh she let out when he thrusted into her...


	13. 1719 Rumor and Truth

**Chapter 12: 1719 Rumor and Truth**

„Sparrow! What's wrong with you? Sitting there within your narrow little niche, all alone in the dark, avoiding any kind of company? Come, join us! Tell us about your adventure with the Spanish. Is it true?"

The tavern was a single den of thieves crowded to the brim with lots of sinister figures, sailors and pirates - better privateers - in the name of the King. Somewhere around the place amongst different kinds of laughter, yelling, music, singing and the idle talk of drunken souls a several groups of men tried to get rid of their latest prize or their pay while playing cards or dice.

Only within the rare and barely enlightened niches it was possible to talk to each other without shouting and yelling and every one who had been able to get hold of one of them could name himself a lucky one.

So it was due to this circumstance that Jack finally raised his gaze from his beer mug when the question got carried over to him over the alarums and excursions of the taproom. None of the men belonged to his crew and he knew only a few of them by their name whereat a few in this case had the meaning of no one. He never before came across one of the men populating the tavern and – if he was honest with himself – he wouldn't have missed it if he would have been spared from coming across them at all.

They were all privateers sailing in the name of the King of England and it was obvious that not knowing them had not the same meaning like not knowing him.

It was not of importance that he knew none of them because more than enough of them seemed to believe in knowing him – much better than he would have loved them to.

But since his encounter with the Spanish galleon and his escapade with plundering the ship without firing off only one single shot the story seemed to have spread round the seven seas as fast as the wind until it finally reached the taverns and brothels of Port Royal.

Port Royal!

In times of the infamous Henry Morgan the town had first of all been the most feared and best known pirate hideout within the Caribbean. No one had dared to attack the pirates within the town and no one dared to make a try to take it – not even the English although they owned the most forceful fleet sailing the seven seas.

As long until they came to a much better conclusion than fighting against the man. They made their most feared enemy their most powerful ally:

The English bought the dreaded pirate. With letters of marque and with naming him governor of Port Royal. At that time Sir Henry Morgan started to hunt for his former comrades and sold them out whenever they denied serving the King as well. He named himself privateer and as it seemed he enjoyed his new position as well as the power it meant and the wealth it caused him. At least as long as he did not come to rest...

Then, within the middle of the night when he desperately tried to sleep he got caught by his memories and plagued with remorse. And so it happened that one day the infamous Captain Henry Morgan – one of the founders of the Code of Morgan and Batholomew – had been found within his chamber – swigged to death.

Since these days Port Royal was known as an English garrison and the governors always had a watchful eye on every ship entering the bay – equal if it was a merchant vessel, a privateer or a warship.

When the "Eagle's Wing" made berth she got marveled out of uncountable pairs of eyes and her young captain had been brought to the governor's palace immediately – just to describe the exact course of events considering his bold adventure within his own words even the governor himself already had heard about.

As soon as Jack had returned aboard he had allowed his men to go ashore provided that always a handful of them would stay aboard to keep the watch. He wasn't willing to take the risk that some disagreeable visitors would make a try to free him from all those treasures hidden within the freight room of his ship.

On this evening his crew got spread all around the town within every tavern round the place and within every brothel to find.

While the men enjoyed their shore leave Jack and Caith actually had just one single wish – to spend some nights within a clean and halfway affordable chamber to get rid of all the marks the crossover left upon them and to stay a while alone together without getting disturbed every few hours. That said chamber of all things had to lie within especially that tavern where most of the privateers used to spend their nights they came to know when it was already too late.

With a sigh Jack took another draft from out of his beer mug and had a look at those guys who still waited for his answer.

Finally he gave them his reply: "Well then, as it seems you're already in the know about the fact that I had an encounter with the Spanish, aye? So, if it is that way, mate, you should for sure be also in the know about the fact how I had said adventure with the Spanish. Eh? In addition I would feel much better if you could avoid such familiarities like you used to use."

The other stopped short: "What does this mean?"

"Exactly what you understood, mate. I do not know you and you do not know me and because it is that way it's Captain Sparrow to you. Savvy?"

"Wow! One moment, if you please, young man! Within here you're amongst your kind and we do not know such fine differences, if you get me. At least they weren't necessary up till now. So what's up? Will you tell us your story or are all those rumors we came to know about you and your adventure nothing else but just rumors spread by yourself?"

Caithleen gave Jack a warning look: "I don't trust him. Who knows what it really is this fellow wants from you? Let him think about you whatever he wants to. In a few days we're back at sea. Who cares about what he thinks then?"

"A few days can be enough to kill us, right? I don't care about him, but I would like to know what he really wants from us. I don't believe that it is all about a Spanish galleon, love."

With it he emptied his beaker, gave Caithleen a wink and sashayed over to the table whereupon the stranger and his companions were drinking and playing. He leaned back against one of the wooden buttresses standing vis a vis to their table and kept taps on their game of dice. It was the game of deception, a game about lies and deceit. Who had no money left to loose set in what else ever he had left – included his freedom.

Jack grinned when the privateer with his quick tongue lost his stake to another: "Don't you think as well it is of more sense to deal either with those ubiquitous rumors without getting distracted by playing cards or playing cards without getting distracted by all those ubiquitous rumors, mate?"

"What do you know about this, Sparrow?"

"Enough!" Jack beheld his fingertips in a rather naive way: "Well let's say enough to get that a man who's a gambler is much easier to betray than a man who uses to be on the qui vive. Although I've to admit that it is much easier at all to betray a man who's greedy and a gambler..."

"To be honest, lad, I would really and truthfully be interested in one thing."

"What would that supposed to be, mate?"

"Well, I would love to know where you picked up your wisdom."

"That's easy! Exactly where you use to pick up your rumors."

The stranger burst out laughing and got up: "Very well then, lad, let's talk. I would suggest we retire to your cozy little niche over there."

Jack nodded and they returned together to his quiet niche which was halfway shielded from curious eyes and cocked ears. When his still nameless companion spotted Caithleen he harshly snarled at her: "Make your exit, little slut! Here's nothing to earn for your kind of lass at the moment!"

"Huh?" Caithleen looked at him in a mix of puzzlement and surprise: "What kind of guy are you supposed to be? Eh? Not able to differentiate a whore from a pirate lass?" She did not avoid his gloomy glare and added: "It's the same like talking about rumor and truth – it's always better to be able to differentiate these two as well."

"Does this wench belong to you, Sparrow?"

"You will get the answer as soon as I got your name, mate." Jack replied.

"Henry Batiste, a privateer like you."

"You're a French?" Caithleen asked.

"Yep, that's what I am."

"And how is this, mate, that you – claiming to be a French – sail with letters of marque signed by the King of England? Eh?"

"Let's say it all depends on the height of the payment doesn't it...?"

"Or on the right payer." Caithleen dared to throw in: "Tell me, in whose name are you spying?"

"Yes, mate, that's an interesting question. Would love to know the answer."

Jack's gaze met the French's and an exiguous and barely noticeable tremor within his cheek told him that Caith was right and that his feelings did not betray him as well. For sure he was young but he was no fool and the same applied for Caithleen. Wariness was indicated as long as they had to deal with Batiste.

"My payer is not supposed to be your concern, lad. None of us sails for the King because of honor and a quiet conscience, am I right? Or do you want to tell that you have agreed to plunder ships for the East India Trading Company for just a clammy handshake? I know their payment to be bounteous so don't dare to tell me anything different."

"That's true, but..."

"Be honest, Sparrow, what is it a privateer is in truth? We're still nothing else but pirates. The only difference is we do not plunder ships anymore sailing under the colors of our payer or of the King who had signed our letters of marque."

"Aye! I agree, but nevertheless there are differences. For example me and you, mate. The only thing we are bound by is that both of us do not really like the Spanish. Aye? So, in other respects I still believe there is nothing all around the seven seas being able to make us allies. Savvy?"

Batiste started laughing loud and audacious then he grabbed the bar maid with her arm and yelled: "C'mon, sweet, bring us three fresh mugs of beer and let me know if you've nothing better to do tonight. I would love to take you with me up to my chamber. There I will show you everything a man like me is able to show a lass like you."

Caithleen rolled her eyes: "Who are you, lad? Another one taking himself for a gift to all women?"

"No one demands you to share my chamber together with me, lovey! But I always pay a fair price and my qualities as the captain of my ship only get outmatched by my qualities between the legs of a beautiful lady.

"Well, I'm a lucky one then because I'm not a lady", Caithleen hissed being nauseated by the way he beheld her.

"No one is interested in your qualities, Batiste, where ever you may use to use them", Jack mingled in: "If I remember it right, mate, you just wanted to explain to us why you're convinced that we're much more alike than I would like to guess..."

"Calm down, lad, we're not in a hurry aren't we?" The bar maid returned and while she placed the three fresh beer mugs on the table in front of them Batiste had nothing better to do but to stare into her corsage again then, after she left, he bent over the table and went on: "You're young, Sparrow and I ask myself if you're already in the know about all those legends and rumors being told all around the seven seas just dealing with the most important things every pirate loves to deal with – treasures and secrets."

"Ah, I see!" Jack shrugged: "For sure you mean all those stories and legends about mermaids, about hidden, cursed and buried treasure and about all the strange myths auguring everlasting youth and immortality. Eh? What do you think, mate? That I've in fact nothing better to do but to waste my time while searching for all those wondrous things? Of course, you're right, mate. I've nothing better to do but to think how I can reach all those myths, how I can solve the riddles and how I can make it before anybody else could do it!"

"It's not the right place to taunt about it! Too many good sailors already lost their lives while searching for said secrets. Much more than the English, the French and the Spanish together had been able to hang up till now."

"Don't you think as well this is one more reason not to search for said myths? I for my part would prefer to stay alive."

Batiste stared at him in disbelief and Jack changed a look with Caithleen. They knew both what was really hidden behind the curiosity of the French. He was greedy and he was hell-bent to find out what it was other pirates and privateers knew about those old legends. And Jack had no doubt that Batiste would not hesitate to eliminate all those whose knowledge he finally elicited. In addition the man was a pavonine coxcomb who loved to swagger about everything he came to know about.

That was why Jack decided to play the game Batiste wanted him to play: "Well, mate, if I think it all over I come to the conclusion that you're totally convinced about everything you told us. So maybe your story is worth thinking about anyway. What say you?"

Suddenly a broad grin enlightened the face of the French: "I knew it! I knew that you're the right one to talk to, Sparrow! You're a clever guy if you're listening carefully to all I want to tell you..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Dawn had already broken when Henry Batiste was finally that drunk that he sank under the table wearing a blessed smile upon his lips and not noticing any more that the whole content of his latest mug of beer poured out over him.

Caithleen let out a sigh: "We should have shot him. No one in here would have cared about it and would have spared us from a night without sleep."

"Maybe you're right, love, but we found out a lot of what he for sure not wanted to tell us. And because he loved to listen to his own words we had nothing else do to but to listen. So he did not find out if we're in the know about all the legends he mentioned or not."

"So you believe in his stories?" Caithleen grimaced and she made no secret about everything she thought of Batiste.

"Not everything, love, but there must be hidden some truth in it if he's that hell-bent to find out whatever possible about it. But: "Jack got up: "I'm still convinced he's not sailing on his own. He has not only a payer. There must be someone else. Someone he shares his payment and his preys with. Not to forget his knowledge." He reached out his hand for Caithleen and added: "However, there are some more different things I would love to do and to talk about now but sitting at this table any longer."

"What is this supposed to be?"

"Oh my sweet Caith, don't act the innocent. I thought of a pillowy bed and of not getting up again before tonight."

While they went up the stairs to their chamber Caithleen asked: "Cursed Aztec gold, eternal life – who the hell does really believe in things like that?"

"Well, what can I say, love? This fellow lying under the table down there is not so wrong like his words may appear to your ears. Before my father took my ship from me I went out for several forays together with my friends and I can assure you, Caith, we came across more than one extraordinarinesses."

"If you're the one telling it to me, I've no other choice but believing in it, eh?" Caithleen gave him a wink and jumped up the last steps.

Right in front of their chamber Jack closed in on her. He wrapped an arm round her waist and dragged her closer. Within the dim light of the corridor he beheld her for a moment then he said filled with stern: "If there is a well out there granting everlasting life I will find it and we will drink from its waters together, love. Then we can sail the seven seas forever and no one will be able to take you away from me, Caithleen Stevens..."

"I love this idea, Jack Sparrow", she whispered her lips close to his: "There is no one I know all around the world I would bear to share an eternity but you..."

"True?" Jack's eyes were sparkling and he pushed Caithleen into their chamber. He did not care about the early hour and slammed the door behind him then he let himself drop on the bed dragging Caith with him: "Well, but before we will spend just one more thought about immortality and all that stuff I want to sleep about it for at least just one hour."

"Sleep?" An amused undertone was in Caitheen's voice when she slipped out of her clothes and crawled under the blanket at his side.

"For sure sleep! Whereof did you think, love?" When she did not give him a reply he went on: "I know what you're thinking right now, sweet. That I'm joking, True? I assure you, not this time." Caithleen still kept silent: "Caith? Are you listening?" Jack turned round to look at her and a smile appeared upon his lips. Caithleen had fallen asleep – her eyes closed, her lips slightly open, her head rested upon one of her arms...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

When Jack and Caithleen went down to the taproom in the evening of the same day a good humored Henry Batiste already waited for them. Obviously he had overcome his inebriation without suffering from a hangover and he kept taps on every move the young pirate couple made. Then he followed them when both wanted to leave the tavern.

Jack turned round and gazed at him a bit angrily: "What?"

"Where are you supposed to go, Sparrow? Want to try out another establishment or a brothel? I'll accompany you!"

"Who told you to be invited, Batiste?"

"Oho! Not that fast, lad! At least I revealed a lot of my knowledge about all those treasures and secrets to you last night."

"Yes, and as far as I know I kept my knowledge. Aye?"

"That's exactly what you did! So what do you think? Wouldn't it be fair to share everything you know with me tonight?" Something lurking and malicious was within his gaze, within his words and within his whole behavior.

"I'm sorry, mate. We set sail tomorrow morning and I've to get my men out of the taverns and brothels round the place because I don't want them to sleep in the rigging like you slept underneath the table." Jack greeted the man: "Captain Batiste!"

Jack and Caithleen wanted to leave when behind him a sound was to hear which could have only one meaning – Batiste drew his sword.

"One moment yet, Saprrow! That was not what I had in mind when I shared my knowledge with you last night. You won't leave Port Royal without sharing yours with me!"

Jack hesitated for a moment then he turned towards Caithleen: "Want you to go aboard, love. This is my concern..."

"But Jack..." Caithleen gazed at him totally shocked and not willing to leave him.

"Please, Caith, do it! There is no time for discussions now. The "Wing" needs a captain if this should go wrong!"

He had no chance anymore to give her some more orders because Batiste's blade missed him about just a hair's breadth and ere he could react he found himself midst a duel against the unforgiving French.

Batiste turned out to be a tricky and slyly opponent and it was nearly impossible to foresee his next strike. So Jack avoided it by jumping over it or cowering under it as often as he was able to.

Mostly it was just luck when the French missed him until he entangled himself in a root and stumbled to the ground with some verve.

"Young fool!" Batiste taunted: "At least you will tell no one about everything you heard from me."

He took his pistol from his belt and just wanted to aim at Jack when he let it go with a loud and painful yell and a wild curse upon his lips. A small knife stuck within his hand and prevented his plan to kill Jack.

Filled with hatred he glared at Caithleen: "You will come to regret this, little wench! We will meet again soon! Mark my words! Both of you!"

"Can't wait sending you to hell, you bastard! And now make your exit before I will shoot you!" Caithleen watched how Batsiste slowly went away then she reached out her hand to help Jack up and remarked with a grin: "The "Wing" has a captain!"

Before Jack was able to give her a reply they heard Batiste shout after them: "Maybe you think all those stories I told you are nothing else but fairy tales, Sparrow, but this is neither a legend nor a rumor. It's the truth! Rosalind Stevens is on the hunt for you and believe me she's not in a very good mood while thinking of you. She will send you to hell where ever she might come across you! This my young and naive Captain Jack Sparrow is the truth and it would be wise to watch out from out of which direction she will attack you. She will scuttle you without asking if you're prepared for it..."


	14. 1719 The Neptune's Bride

**Chapter 13: 1719 The Neptune's Bride**

The storm came over the „Eagle's Wing" and her crew like out of the nothingness and hit her just when she already had been too far away from all those ports which could have granted her shelter at this point of time. She was out at the open ocean, when the heavy weather broke loose and she was nothing else but a toy midst the forces of nature. No one aboard – not even a very well skilled old salt like the first mate Jacobsen – had been prepared for such a tremendous storm. Not within these waters, not within this season and not at this moment at all.

Water spilled the "Wing" and her crew coming out of every direction thinkable when the swell let the waves crush on the deck. Rain fell that dense that it was barely possible for the men to spot their own hands while fighting for their ship. It was dark as if it was the deepest new moon night and not even the uncountable lanterns hanging all around the deck were able any more to spend enough light to soak this forbidden stormy afternoon.

Below the men fought stout-hearted but the same desperate to secure and save the goods having been stuffed within the freight room from possible water inrush. They tried to seal every leak and every hatch they were able to find and within the galley the ship's cook had abandoned every attempt trying to prepare a proper supper.

Some of the men tried to fasten those ropes again which cut loose due to the storm using their last hints of strength and a handful of foolhardy sailors just wanted to climb up the shrouds to reef the sails when Jacobsen went up to the deck.

He did not need long to get what was going on and what the men had in mind. That was why he yelled against the storm: "Are you mad, you blasted landlubbers? Out of the rigging, boys! Or are you curious how it feels to get smashed on the deck of our vessel? Leave the sails! It's easier to renew them but your bones! Well then, that's an order, mates! C'mon, your hands are needed below! Go and help save the freight!"

"Aye, Sir!"

Being totally exhausted and soaked to the skin the men did like having been ordered and went below to give their comrades a helping hand while Jacobsen jumped up the stairs leading to the helm. There he found Caithleen.

The storm tore at her bandana and she was soaked to the skin as well. Rain spilled her face and her clothes stuck to her skin barely able to hide her female attractions any more. Her hands kept the helm within a firm grip but meanwhile they were already white due to the strain. She tried in vain to bury her bare feet deeper into the ship's planks and it had just been by chance that she got Jacobsen when he appeared up with her at the helm.

"Tell me, lass, how long is it since you took the helm?"

"I relieved Jack about two hours ago!" She had to yell to drown out the storm.

"Then make haste, lass, to get below. Otherwise I fear you will meet your end! I'll take the helm." Jacobsen waved her to leave and she nodded.

Before she went down the stairs she said: "If we won't be able to find a hideout soon all your concern about the men and me will be in vain." She pointed at the masts and the canvas aching and moaning as if they would burst and break within the next wink of an eye when another gust swelled and caught them: "Have a look! The sails are more or less just tattered pieces of cloth – we won't get anywhere else with them if we won't find shelter somewhere."

"Aye! You're right, lass, but there is not much shelter to find within these waters."

The same moment something different caught their attention. An eerie green shimmer started to sneak down the masts. Weird like coming from out of another world.

"Saint Elmo's Fire!" Jacobsen execrated and crossed himself: "That's exactly the last thing we needed just right now. Fortunately most of the men are busy with the freight. A crew of superstitious landlubbers right here on the deck would be my death at the moment I fear."

"I agree!" Caithleen said with a smile upon her lips: "Hold the line, Mister Jacobsen. Will make a try to find out if Jack possibly found a place where we can hole up."

"Tell him he shall hurry, lass. Otherwise we will all end up within Davy Jones' Locker tonight."

Caithleen only nodded. She left the helm to the knaggy but good-natured sailor without hesitating and stumbled over the deck to reach the chart room and the Captain's cabin without getting thrown over the rail.

A new wave of seawater spilled her before she was able to slam the door behind her when she entered the chart room and with a curse upon her lips she shook the water out of her hair and wiped it out of her eyes.

Jack raised his head when she stumbled in. His face was also still surrounded by his long wet strands falling into his eyes. He had enwrapped himself in a blanket and he pointed at a second one lying within a little niche behind him. Caithleen gave him a grin and grasped for it to wrap herself in it rapidly then she kept standing behind him.

"Any idea how to go on or where to hide?" Caithleen's voice sounded tired.

"There must a small little island be supposed to be found in these waters. As far as I can remember there is a freshwater well to find upon it and a small but well sheltered bay. All I ask myself at the moment is indeed if our current position is really the one our compass wants to make us believe it is."

"What do you want to tell me?"

"Well, Caith, if our position is correct we should be able to find this little island soon. We can only hope not to miss its bearings."

"If we miss it we will end up within Davy Jones' Locker. There is no doubt about that."

Caithleen grasped for one of the rum bottles standing upon the table and took a deep draft of that brown swill. She tried hard not to grimace and Jack beheld her with a somehow fascinated mien. A broad grin appeared upon his lips and he also tried hard not to burst out laughing.

"What's that funny about this?" Caithleen glared at him with sparkling eyes.

"It's not the thing itself which is funny, love. It's you, sweet", Jack responded and got up to wrap his arms round her body: "It's the way you're standing in the middle of this room, dripping wet, wrapped into a flimsy old blanket, a bottle of rum within your hand and totally at pains not to agitate. Really, love, it's a sight worth to behold."

"I understand! Well then, if it causes you so much pleasure to act the Captain within a night like this you should return to the deck and relief Jacobsen from the helm, Jack Sparrow! I'm convinced he would not refuse this favor!"

"Why not?" Jack smirked: "Have I never told you that I reportedly was born aboard a ship? During a night like this? Out on the open ocean? Midst a Typhoon?"

"You didn't!" Caithleen replied: "But", she beheld him from his wet bandana down to his boots: "if it's true it explains a lot."

"Aye! You're right! Glad you agree to this, love. It's exactly what I thought about it as long as I know this story." He grasped her with her chin and looked straight into her face: "Name me foolish, name me venturous or name me whatever you want me to. I don't mind. Maybe it's true what my father always told me and I'm crazy but if it's true it is for only one reason. I'm crazy for you, Caithleen Stevens. And if we'll end up within Davy Jones' Locker one thing is for sure true – we will end up there together. Savvy?"

He covered her lips with his and she leaned closer into him and his embrace. His closeness and the warmth his body gave off were much more than welcome. Just when he wanted to free her from the blanket they both heard the scream coming out of the crow's nest: "Land ho!"

Jack stopped short: "What the hell is this guy doing up there?"

"Don't look at me! I've nothing to do with this. I would never have sent him up there. But maybe we already found what we actually never had in mind to search for..."

"We will come to know this immediately. C'mon, love, let's have a look what's going on up there..."

~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~

The closer the "Eagle's Wing" got to the isle and the small and narrow bay where she wanted to seek shelter the more obvious it was that she and her crew would not be the only ones who wanted to take refuge there within this stormy night.

The rain fell down still that dense as before and due to this the lanterns of another ship lying already for anchor within the bay were barely to spot. But it was another ship. It was no hallucination. When the "Wing" got alongside to the strange sailer her crew was finally able to behold the figurehead at the bow of their involuntarily neighbors.

It was the image of a woman wearing a waving raimant. Her head with its loose hair got adorned with a crown made of shells and within her hand she carried a trident.

Caithleen grabbed the spyglass although it meant no help within a night like this. She had a look through it, blinked for several times, rubbed her eyes and had another look through it. Confused and puzzled she stared at the gorgeous galleon which had also found its way into this narrow bay.

"Something wrong, love?" Jack followed her gaze with his and tried to find an explanation fro her sudden silence and her astonishment.

"No! There's no reason to worry about. It's just – I did not come across this vessel for nearly a decade. I never expected to see it once again within my whole lifetime."

"Why? Under which colors does it sail?"

"It's the "Neptune's Bride" and when I saw her the last time she sailed under the colors of Captain Jeffrey Stevens!"

"Stevens?" Jacobsen gazed at her inquiringly.

"Stevens! Aye, Mister Jacobsen. You got me right. The "Bride" is the proud vessel of my dear uncle. But it's difficult to say if he's still the Captain aboard. Since my father and my uncle decided to sail different waters we neither heard anything about him or his ship nor did we see the smallest spot of him or his vessel. It's very well supposable that she does not belong to him anymore."

"Tell me if I'm right or wrong, love. Following your words and the gaze you behold this proud vessel with I assume you're not really glad to see it again. Eh?" Jack let his gaze wander between Caithleen and the impressive three-master lying right in reach.

"Glad?" Caithleen shrugged: "My father and my uncle had more than once been of a different opinion if it came to the discussion how to capture and plunder a ship. My father was convinced that Jeffrey used to hoist the red flag much too often. You all know what hoisting the red flag means, I guess?"

"He gave no quarter and he took no prisoners?" Jacobsen asked.

"Yes! He gave no quarter and he took no prisoners. Aye! My father always said it is more than enough to plunder a vessel and because they never came to terms about this they separated and never came across each other again."

"To avoid scuttling each other some day?" Jack presumed.

"That was the only reason, yes. And from that day on Jeffrey Stevens was nothing but a phantom to me."

Before they were able to talk about Jeremy and Jeffrey Stevens any further the watch of the "Bride" shouted over to them: "Hey you over there! Who are you?"

"It's the "Eagle's Wing". We seek shelter from the storm", Jacobsen replied: "Who are you?"

"It's the "Neptune's Bride". We're here for the same reason!"

"Who's your Captain?" Caithleen was glad that due to the storm no one was able to get how her voice vibrated.

"It's Captain Stevens!" The answer came back immediately: "Yours?"

"It's Captain Sparrow!" Jack replied blinking into the darkness.

For a while it was silent aboard the "Neptune's Bride" then the flickering and dancing light of a lantern was to spot and another question reached the crew of the "Wing: "Will you grant us the pleasure to have dinner together with our Captain?"

"If I'm allowed to be accompanied by a companion I would like to accept this offer, mate!" Jack answered.

"Take aboard who ever you want to, Captain!"

"You're welcome!" Jack turned towards Jacobsen the same moment: "I will take Caith with me over there. You're in charge now, mate. Let the men take a rest. Let hand out some rum and remind the ship's cook what are his duties aboard. He shall prepare a meal for the men." Silently he added: "And keep a sharp eye on our neighbors. Got me?"

"Aye, Capatin!"

"Well then, let us lay out a plank then to link both ships that we can have a look at our host."

~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~

Tried not to stumble while sneaking over the plank towards the "Bride" and not to end up within the bay Jack and Caithleen dared to accept the invitation. The first mate – a square built strong guy with friendly eyes which seemed not to fit with his looks – already waited for them.

He reached out a hand to help Caithleen with getting aboard when recognition and a hint of pleasance got shown within his eyes: "Miss Caith? Is it really you? Oh, I never believed in seeing you again, young Miss Stevens!"

Caithleen beheld him and answered with a smile: "Master Walcott! Still aboard this coffin ship? Don't tell me you would not have been able to find a better ship and a better Captain at all?"

"My dear lass, sailing under the command of Captain Stevens was not the worst choice. That's the truth. But", Walcott pointed at Jack: "as I see you're not alone any more, Eh?"

"He's my Captain and my lover, Master Walcott. Jack Sparrow."

"I already thought something like that when I got that he wanted to take a woman aboard. Is he a good Captain though?" Walcott gave her a wink.

"If I'm allowed to ask you something, mate, I will do so", Jack mingled in now: "I'm not intending to damp your being happy to see my girl again but if you supposedly had been able to get up till now it's not very inviting to stay outside with this not even small amount of rain. So all I want to ask is if there is a much more dry place aboard your ship, mate. At least a place being a bit drier than this deck. Eh?"

"Pardon, Sir! I'll lead you to the parlor. There it is warm and dry. And you can rewarm within there until the Captain will join you."

Walcott waved Jack and Caithleen to follow him. He led them straight to an elegant parlor which nearly let them forget that they still stayed aboard a ship.

A smooth carpet covered the parquet being built from precious wood, the paneled walls were adorned with skillful made carvings and the windows got veiled with curtains made of the most expensive damask. Even a heated fireplace was to find within the room spending some kind of comforting warmth within this night.

In the middle of the room stood a huge table surrounded by half a dozen chairs. A carafe filled with wine stood upon it, several glasses and a bowl with fresh fruit.

Jack let himself drop into one of the comfortable armchairs standing in front of the fireplace and had a look around: "Well, as it seems your uncle is very well in the know how to lead an acceptable life, love. For sure he's not of that kind who squanders his prize within the next tavern or the next brothel, am I right?"

"My father, Captain Sparrow, did not hoard up a treasure to squander it!"

The voice came from the door and it belonged without any doubt to a woman. Jack as well as Caithleen turned round and stared at the young woman – even though for different reasons.

"Prudence!" Caithleen's voice had a somehow much too cool undertone to be still called hearty.

"Caith!" The answer was not less icy.

Jack looked from one girl to the other and stopped short: "Ladies, I don't want you to get me wrong and I don't want to step in your way if you want to start a catfight, but would you be so kind to inform me what this strange behavior is about? Eh?"

"Oh yes, it will cause me pleasure! This is Pruedence Stevens. Daughter of Captain Jeffrey Stevens and for her part my dear cousin. And – as it seems – the new Captain of the "Bride". All I can do is warn you, Jack, she owns a sharp tongue."

"And a sharp blade as well!" Prudence added.

Jack beheld her totally unabashed and while doing so he searched for some likenesses between both women but except for the name they shared nothing.

Prudence Stevens was a woman the word beautiful was without any doubt barely adequate enough to describe her. Her well-proportioned face with its big green eyes got surrounded with long carroty hair she wore in a loose braid and her tanned skin told him that she was used to stay in the open. She wore tight black pants, black boots reaching up till over her knees, a white shirt and a jerkin matching the color of her eyes. In addition a broad belt was wrapped round her waist.

She did not look like a piratess but nevertheless she was the Captain of this vessel and she made no secret out of it.

Jack guessed her to be a couple of years older than Caithleen – maybe four or five – and it was obvious that Caith still looked much more than a young girl instead of a woman. Her untamed black curls surrounded her pretty and tanned face with its shiny gray eyes like a cloud and within her pants of rough linen, her loose shirt and with her bare feet she looked youthful and fresh.

Jack grinned – he knew it all better and he liked the idea that a lot of these guys and lasses they came across used to underestimate his girl.

He sat up and looked straight into Prudence's eyes: "My dear, I've no doubt about the fact that both might be true, but I think neither your sharp tongue nor your sharp blade will be necessary tonight. Don't you think as well? Your first mate told us you wanted to have dinner together with us so if you don't mind, love, I think we're all hungry. Aye?"

"Not that official, Sparrow, after all you obviously use to make love to my little cousin so I would say you belong more or less to our family!" Prue laughed when she got aware that Jack lowered his gaze in abashment: "No reason to act the bashful! First she's neither stupid nor ugly and second it's the truth. Am I right?"

Caithleen cleared her throat: "If you please, Prue, let's end up with this now!"

"What's wrong, Caith? I was just joking a little..."

"I'm not interested in jokes like these! But tell me: what happened? Why's the "Bride" under your command now? Did Jeffrey finally end up within Davy Joen's Locker?"

"Your uncle, my father, decided to give up piracy. He joined the brotherhood of the pirates of Madagascar and belongs to the coast Captains now. He still owns a ship – the "Shark" – but he has a trustable man in charge aboard. Jeffrey returned to the trade he once practiced."

"Ah! A respectable gunsmith then! I see! That's honorable", Caithleen taunted: "How many slaves has he sold up till now to be able to retire?"

A dangerous shimmer was to spot within Prudence's eyes and she was already prepared for a fitting response when she got distracted by another question.

"Madagascar?" Jack asked with pricked up ears: "You don't mean this rotten pirate hideout which Captains plunder and pillage without taking care of the code of Morgan and Bartholomew, eh?"

"They are not worse pirates than the Council of the Brethren Corth of Shipwreck Island! You should know this, Saprrow! Al least you're Captain Teague's son, aren't you?" Prudence glared at him.

"Where from do you know, love?"

"My father knows your father very well, believe me..."

"Well, let's say I preferred to turn my back on my father, the island, the Code and the brotherhood some years ago." Jack responded with a shrug.

"Just to come across Jeremy and Rosalind Stevens? Poor boy! Did they finally manage to turn you into an honest pirate then?"

"My father is dead!" Caithleen hissed: "The Spanish burned him and his crew when they still had been alive!"

"I'm sorry to hear this, Caith, but it's what always had been supposed to happen to him! Your father should have sent much more of their ships down to the bottom of the sea instead of leaving them alive!"

"To end up as a coast Captain of Madagascar as well? A creature who sells slaves to enrich himself?" Caithleen's gray eyes were sparkling belligerent.

"Brasiliano, Kidd and the others just do what most of the trading companies use to do as well!"

"Being a pirate does not mean to be a slave trader!"

"Being a pirate means to sail against all flags!"

"Yes, but sailing against all flags does not mean to sail against your beliefs!"

"Pah! Beliefs! They will not help you if you will end up at the gallows some day!"

"Ladies! May I remind you that we're not here to scuttle each other but just because we got led here by chance? We've no other choice at the moment, we've to stay here until this heavy weather will be over. And – trust me – nothing could please me more but to spend my time in the company of two such beautiful girls like you are." Jack gave them both one of his most innocent smiles.

"Bravo, Caith!" Prudence said with a laugh: "You got you a lad, who obviously owns not only some qualities amongst the sheets but who knows how to use his brain as well. Let's have dinner then. We can go on talking later tonight..."

~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~c~

About an hour later and after having had a dinner neither Jack nor Caithleen would have thought about that it had been the ship's cook who prepared it they sat in front of the fireplace in a threesome having put aside their dispute for a while.

Prudence grasped for her glass of wine and asked thoughtfully: "Have you heard anything about the new pirate hideout a handful of pirates is supposed to have built it up at the Bahamas? It's been told that Edward Teach settled down in Nassau to start for his preys from out of its port."

"Teach? For sure you don't mean Blackbeard? Eh?"

Jack frowned. He had already heard a lot of stories about the dreaded pirate who was supposed to cause even the most cold blooded Captains naked fear. Blackbeard was apparently known for not granting clemency to anyone and he used to attack every vessel all around the seven seas equal under which colors it sailed.

"He's exactly the guy I mean!" Prue responded: "As it seems he wants to become a new Henry Morgan and to build up a new pirate state. A rather impossible thing if he scuttles all his opponents."

"He sails from Nassau you say? Isn't he supposed to hide a not even small amount of his treasures there as well?"

"Jack Sparrow, don't tell me you have in mind to do what I guess you have in mind to do!"

Meanwhile Caithleen was used to his gaze when he had a new adventure in mind but this time he would take a nearly unreckonable risk if he wanted to plunder Blackbeard's hideout.

"What should happen to us, love? We make sure that he's out for a prey, sail into Nassau port and relieve him from everything he's not in need for anymore. Savvy?"

"Are you that bold, Sparrow or are you just mad?" Prudence seemed neither to share his enthusiasm nor did she understand it: "Do you have a guess what Teach will do to you if he will ever find out who it was who plundered him?"

"Prue, love, believe me, he will not find me. Me, Caith and our beloved vessel will have been vanished before he will be able to get what will have happened to him..."


	15. 1720 The Slave Ship

**Chapter 14: 1720 The Slave Ship**

The „Eagle's Wing" left Nassau port the same way like she sailed into the bay a few days earlier – without firing off just one single shot. There was only one difference compared to the day she arrived:

Her freight room was crammed with many more chests, caskets and sacks than before and they were all filled to the brim with gold, jewels and pearls. And every single piece of those preciosities belonged to one of the most dreaded pirates sailing the seven seas.

Edward Teach – better known as Blackbeard.

The crew of the "Wing" plundered the new hideout of the infamous and barbarous pirate and everyone knew that this would not remain unnoticed.

After they met Prudence Stevens and her "Neptune's Bride" Jack was not able to get the idea out of his head to pay a visit to the pirates of Nassau. All those stories about treasures and riches Blackbeard was supposed to hoard had been too alluring to forget about them – especially after he came to know that Captain Teach would not be around when they would reach the port.

So his love of adventure brought him, his crew and the East India Trading company a tremendous treasure and riches of every kind thinkable. With this prey they were able to return to London much earlier than they had originally planned and neither he nor Caithleen worried about the thought to spend some weeks within the house of Sir Edwin Cole again soon – even if they won't be able to bring that news back to Elianor she longed for so much.

Whenever they made port throughout their journey and where ever they lay for anchor for some days Jack and Caithleen tried to find out anything about the whereabouts of Bill Turner but no one had been able to tell them something different but what they already were in the know about:

Bill Turner vanished the same day the "Silver Stream" found her grave down within the deep depths of the sea.

It was not what Jack wanted to hear and for sure it was not what he believed in but there was no other story he could tell Elianor when they returned to England. He felt for the warm-hearted woman but he had no idea how he could be able to help her.

"Blackbeard will hunt you all over the seven seas and if necessary he will search for you ashore if he learns that you had been the one who plundered his hideout."

Caithleen leaned against the rail and kept taps on Jack who let his hands slip over the helm being obviously deep in thoughts. She knew the promise of the legendary pirate being possibly on the hunt for them was not supposed to terrify Jack. But to her it was the only chance to get him out of his thoughtfulness at the moment. And it worked.

"We own a very good ship and a courageous crew. Let him come, love, I will be prepared for him", was all he responded.

"Jack Sparrow, I know exactly what it is causing you sorrow and I also wish we could return to London bringing some better news back to Elianor but unfortunately we can't..."

"There is one place we've not searched for him so far."

"Our island?"

"Yes, love, our island. The most obvious and the same the most improbable possibility at all."

For the first time since days his eyes sparkled again and even his wonderful smile found its way back upon his lips.

Caithleen grinned. As it seemed they had one more heading before they would return to England to hand their treasures over to the Company.

"Then it's Parick's Island?" She asked.

Jack looked at her in surprise and cocked his head: "Patrick's Island?"

"He found us and took us there. I don't know its real name so to me it had always been Patrick's Island."

"Well then, my sweet Caith, yes, it is Patrick's Island then."

He grabbed her with her wrist and dragged her close to him. He answered her inquiring gaze just by snuggling his cheek to hers, wrapping his arms round her body and keeping her as tight as possible.

Her closeness was all he longed for except the mere endless wide of the open ocean.

Jack knew this to be an illusion but if it was that way it was worth to surrender to it as long as ever possible.

His ship, the sea and the woman he kept within his arms – this was the kind of freedom he had already searched for when he set sail for the very first time and now – when he set course towards the small island they left in a hurry just a few months ago – it did not feel like giving up said freedom but to return to a place having been the only home to him he knew being a real home.

This home Shipwreck Island had never been to him...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Only a one day's journey still kept them from the mystical island they just named Patrick's Island since a couple of days now when the man up in the crow's nest spotted sails on the horizon.

Straight on their course.

If they relied on the flag it obviously was a Spaniard.

"Mister Jacobsen!"

"Captain?"

"Prepare the ship for a sea fight and ready the guns but keep the hatches close until you will get my order." Jack's hands slipped over the helm when he brought the "Wing" around to bring her on a direct course towards the Spanish: "I'm not willing to take the risk that they'll find out by chance what our heading is."

"You want to attack them?" Jacobsen stared at him in puzzlement: "Jack, that's a warship not a merchant vessel."

"One more reason to stop them in their tracks! Eh?" Jack's youthful face got enlightened by a grim fire: "One of our ship had been sent down to Davy Jones' Locker by them. Into the bargain much too close to our island, don't you think this as well, Mister Jacobsen? I'm not willing to share Patrick's fate. Not yet! Savvy?"

"It's the "Santa Isabella". Be glad if Vargas will not notice us."

Jack turned round when he heard Caithleen's voice behind him. Her face looked like being petrified when she lowered the spyglass and he renounced asking her wherefrom she knew which ship it was and who her commander was. She told him about it long ago...

Don Esteban de Vargas murdered her father and he also killed Patrick. She would recognize the Spanish warship in every place and at every time.

Jack hinted Jacobsen with a gaze to take the helm then he enclosed her hands with his: "Love, don't be afraid of him any more. I'm with you now and I swear to you by the pain of death that I will protect you – always!"

A forced smile appeared upon Caithleen's lips and she answered: "Don't fly in his face, Jack. You've no idea of what he's capable to do..."

"You told me, love, and I had to witness it with my own eyes. Believe me I will not underestimate him."

"Jack, it's not about you to underestimate him. He will not underestimate you – ere he'll take that risk he will kill you..."

"Oi! These are not really promising lookouts aren't they? Eh?" He beheld her, grinned and gave her a wink: "I'm not afraid of him, sweet!" He turned towards Jacobsen again and repeated his order: "Prepare the ship for a sea fight! And I expect you to fulfill my orders as given. You wait until I order you to fire. I will throw every man over board who dares to act overhasty. Did I make myself clear?"

Jacobsen only nodded and left the helm to Jack again. He vanished and shortly after he could be heard how he drove the crew on: "Full canvas! All hands to the braces! Want you to move, you lazy cockroaches!"

"Charming as ever. Obviously he's not interested in seeing our men to get harmed." Jack remarked with some amused shrug.

"Jack, the "Santa Isabella" is not only a warship. She's also a slave ship", Caithleen warned him: "I dare to bet with you Vargas is on his way to Maracaibo or another rotten port where he can sell his valuable freight to the highest bidder."

"Slaves!" Jack grimaced wearing a nauseated expression upon his face: "If there is something within this world I really hate it's a slave trader. Equal under which colors he might sail."

"Many pirates sell their captives as well..." Caithleen threw in.

"I'm not 'many pirates', Caith. Patrick was not 'many pirates'. If he would have been one of those rotten creatures I would never have found you."

"Maybe you would. Possibly within some brothel or a whorehouse. You would have paid me then. A shilling for an hour, a few for a night. I would have been forced to cause you pleasure and possibly we would both have enjoyed it because you're neither rough nor cruel..."

"What's wrong, love? You're no whore, you're no harlot! And of course you're not buyable! As long as I'll breathe and as long as I can prevent it no one else will touch you but me – unless you won't want me any more some day. No, Caithleen Stevens, you're no whore, you're a pirate lass and not even the letters of marque will change that..."

"So you're not a privateer today?"

"No, love, not today! What ever it is Vargas hides aboard his ship – Beckett will not get a single penny of it. The "Santa Isabella" belongs to us and our crew..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

"Hoist our colors, Mister Jacobsen!" Jack's eyes shimmered from determination: "The shall know who we are!"

"But what's with the letters of marque?" Jacobsen asked.

"Which letters of marque, mate? I don't care about them! Up with the skull and crossbones! My order, my charge! The Spanish commander is known as an infamous pirate hunter, I'm in the know about it, you're in the know about it, the crew's in the know about it! Let him know we're pirates! I've not in mind to capture this vessel for the Company! Savvy?"

"Aye, Captain!" Obviously Jacobsen was not as confident as Jack was when he ordered to hoist the colors.

The strain aboard the "Wing" was to feel conspicuously. The Spanish commander aboard the heavy armed warship had become the fate of so many other pirates before that there was no man aboard who had not already heard about Don Esteban de Vargas.

The Spaniard was known not to grant clemency to his captives. Much worse! He used to put them to death as long as he stayed at sea aboard his vessel. Doing so he had only one thing to do after they got their punishment – he ordered the dead bodies to be thrown overboard. Vargas was convinced that no pirate was worth to get a fair law suit ashore and he was not willing to feed his prisoners much longer than necessary – if at all. And so he found his own solution to that problem.

These were the stories Jack heard from Partick Swallow and Rosalind Stevens and not only from those tow. Even when he stayed ashore together with the chart drawers as an employee of the East India Trading Company during the Winter months he heard stories about that merciless Spaniard.

And so it happened that he was hell-bent on sending the "Santa Isabella" and her ruthless commander down to that place where – for his part – both belonged to – to the deep depths of Davy Jones' Locker.

His hands clasped the helm within a firm grip and after a nearly endless moment of waiting he finally yelled: "Mister Jacobsen, fire a salvo close to her bow! I don't want to miss getting the attention of this bastard towards us!"

Only a few seconds later the "Eagle's Wing" fired a broadside towards the "Santa Isabella" hitting the water surface close to her and her bow. Afterwards it was silent again.

Nothing happened!

Aboard the Spanish warship there moved nothing. No sound was to hear, no man was to spot. Vargas made no effort to open the hatches or to run out the guns. He not even hoist the negotiator's flag or another sign which hinted that he was willing to negotiate with the pirates who dared to attack him. Obviously he was not really impressed by the broadside they already sent him.

"I don't like the look of this, Jack!" Caithleen jumped up the stairs leading to the helm: "What is he waiting for?"

"Oh, I think you should not worry about it, love. We will get his answer more than early enough, I think."

It needed not long until it seemed as if Jack would be right when something started to move aboard the "Santa Isabella".

Jacobsen rushed up to the helm and joined Jack and Caithleen with a worried face. He stared over to the Spanish warship and distrust got shown upon his face as if he wasn't quite sure what to think about the goings-on over there: "They drop jetsam! What sense does he think this is supposed to make?"

"Jetsam?"

Caithleen dragged the spyglass out of his hand and had a look through it – motionless and silently – until she finally said: "That's no jetsam, gents!"

"What?" Jack gazed at her in surprise.

"That's no jetsam! Damn, Jack! You have to bring the "Wing" around!" She passed the spyglass over to him and he had a look through it on his own.

When his hand sank his face mirrored an expression being a mix of horror and disgust: "Ready the ship and turn her about!"

"What?" For a split second Jacobsen stared at both of them in confusion. He seemed not to get what was going on.

"No time for asking questions, mate! We turn around and bring her about!"

"Ave, Captain! I'm already on my way!" With it Jacobsen hurried away.

While Jack tried to get the "Wing" as close as possible towards those poor souls fighting for their lives within the water between both ships he and Caithleen had to witness helplessly how Vargas ordered his men to throw their living freight over the rail without mercy.

Then the hatches of the "Santa Isabella" opened and her crew ran out the guns. This was the moment when Jack got aware that he was about to lose this fight equal whatever he had in mind to do.

If he took the risk to bring his "Wing" closer to the "Isabella" his fate and the fate of his crew and his ship would be to bemoan. If he decided not to take the risk he had to watch how all those helpless figures within the water miserably drowned in front of his eyes. If he dared to send another broadside over to the the Spanish he took the risk to hit not only the warship but Vagras' innocent victims as well and if he held his fire Vargas would not. And the Spanish would not care about whom it was his cannons hit...

Jack's face turned pale and his hands held the steering wheel that firm and that long until he was barely able to feel them any more.

His voice was silent when he turned round to face Caithleen: "You were right, Caith, and I'm a fool. I was not willing to believe in what cruelties this man is able to." Tiredly he buried his face within his hands. He closed his eyes for a while and added: "This was a fight we never had been meant to win..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

It was as if time stood still when they sailed through the narrow passage and into the small hidden bay again which had once been a secure shelter for the "Eagle's Wing" and the "Silver Stream".

Now it was just the "Wing" who let go the anchor at her former berth.

After they had ensured themselves that Don Esteban de Vargas and his "Santa Isabella" would not follow them Jack and Caithleen decided to take all the survivors of the massacre the Spanish committed on his captives to the small trading port at the backside of the little island.

It had been Jack's decision to leave the innocent people with enough gold and money that they would be able to get a passage on a ship back to every place and port all around the seven seas they would prefer or wish. Afterwards he sat course towards the passage which brought them straight to that place no one would be able to follow them to who wasn't in the know about how to do so.

Jack left it to Jacobsen to take care who of the men should take the watch and who of them were allowed to go ashore. He himself vanished – in silence and apparently being in some kind of dark mood – towards the steeps where the small paths was hidden leading up to the cliffs.

Up to the cliffs and up to the small cottage which now belonged to him and Caithleen.

Caithleen followed him as soon as she got that he left. There was no attack to fear coming out of the nothingness and Jacobsen was experienced enough to inspect their vessel even without her help.

She found Jack standing close to the edge of the cliffs his gaze lost on the horizon and on the open ocean. The continuously blowing wind played with his long dark curls and his profile stood out against the slowly sinking sun.

He was young and he was pretty and within this moment his gaze was so stern and he was so deep in thoughts that he barely took notice of her when she reached the cliff. Just when she directly stood close him he reached out behind him and grasped her hand. His fingers enclosed hers and they needed no words.

They stood upon the cliff for a rather long while then it was Caithleen who struck the curls from his neck to bury her head within his shoulder.

"Don't blame yourself, Jack. Equal what you might have tried you would not have been able to catch him this time." She whispered close to his ear.

"Yes, love, I know. That's what makes me..." He interrupted himself and turned round to her with a helpless gesture of his hand: "I understand now what it was you tried to explain to me, but nevertheless I want to know why we failed, although it was right what we wanted to do..."

Caithleen smiled a soft smile: "I've no idea, Jack. There is no answer to that, I fear." Her fingers struck some of his dark strands from out of his face and stroked his cheek: "At least there's is no answer I can give to you..."

"I'm glad you escaped this bastard, love." He forced himself to smile while he wrapped his arms round her warm and tender body.

Somewhen the evening cold crept up the cliffs and seemed willing to creep into their bones as well.

When Jack felt Caithleen shiver within his arms he freed himself from their embrace and dragged her with him: "Let's have a look what remained from Patrick's riches and from our old life..."

Just a few steps separated them from the little cottage upon the cliffs high above the sea and they changed a surprised look when they were able to open the door without squeaking and cracking. Rapidly they closed it again and opened the shutters but within the last light of the dying day their confusion grew more and more.

Not a tremendous layer of dust waited for them covering all their belongings, the floor and every piece of furniture all around the place – quite the contrary.

The rooms looked as if they never had been away. Nowhere within the whole house there were dust, spider webs or dirt to find. Instead they found dry wood within in a basket close to the fireplace, candles within their holders upon the shelves and a number of rum- and wine bottles within the narrow niche where Patrick used to keep them.

The chest with Patrick's nautical instruments still kept his secrets and even his books still stood untouched upon the shelves they belonged to.

"What's going on here?" Caithleen had a look around and shook her head in confusion: "How is this possible? Nothing got stolen and the whole room looks as if we never left it or as if someone was here barely an hour ago. It cannot be possible."

"It can, love. Have a look at this. I think I found the explanation!"

Within his hand Jack held a closed and sealed letter. It was meant for Elianor Turner...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Shutters and curtains were already closed again, a cozy fire was sizzling within the fireplace and about a dozen candles enlightened the room when Jack dragged Caithleen with him over to the narrow divan with its cushions.

He let his gaze sink into her's and said with a smile: "Do you remember, sweet? Upon this uncomfortable piece of furniture I kissed you for the first time, Caithleen Stevens, and I remember it as if it just happened yesterday."

Instead of giving him a reply her fingers slipped softly over his lips. His dark eyes followed every move she made until his gaze found hers again. Her gray eyes rested upon his face and she needed no words to tell him she loved him.

He knew it, he could see it and he could feel it – with every single of her tender touched or gestures. It was what made their rough life bearable and it was what reminded him that the cruelties they had to witness and to suffer had not been able to bereave them of their feelings.

With a smile he grabbed her with the collar of her shirt and dragged her down to him. He pressed a kiss upon her lips, relished her sweet taste upon his tongue and felt his growing desire to feel her.

Caithleen sitting upon his lap wrapped her arms round his neck and pushed closer towards him. She longed for his hands caressing her skin and his lips following them down their path.

She let it happen that his fingers slipped under her shirt to loosen the bandage she used to wear. Involuntarily and just trusting her own feelings she closed her eyes when Jack's gentle touch cupped her breasts and started to caress their sensitive tips.

She shivered under his touch and this time – he knew it – it was not due to the chill. He needed not long until she bent over him and while her fingers buried within his dark hair, while she loosened his bandana and while she sealed his lips with a deep kiss he first stripped off her shirt and then her pants.

Her tanned skin shimmered within the candlelight and no one would be able to keep them both from what they longed for so much.

He wanted to relish it and he wanted to savor it to take her at this place which kept so many wonderful memories and he loved to watch how the love she felt for him mingled with her desire and her lust within her eyes when he entered her inch by inch...


	16. 1720 Patrick's Secrets

**This chap is dedicated to CharlieCats ( u/2584541/) - linalove ( u/1673450/) - sullsinger ( u/2145019/). Thank you so much for your support...**

* * *

**Chapter 15: 1720 Patrick's Secrets**

It was already deep black night outside and only a little light poured out through the closed windows of the small cottage upon the cliffs. Except the continuous flow of the sea and the woosh of the waves nothing else was to hear up there. The light was warm and warm and cozy it was also within the little cottage.

Jack and Caithleen sat back to back on the floor in front of the heated fireplace. When dampness and a steady wind crept up the cliffs and crept into their bones they decided to heat up the fireplace. Meanwhile it was warm and snug inside their little home.

On one of their sides stood a handful of half emptied bottles and a plate with fresh made pancakes, on the other side stood several chests, boxes, caskets and cases and piled up uncountable papers, documents, maps, charts and books beside different of Patrick's nautical instruments.

It was for hours now that Jack and Caithleen searched within all those books, charts and papers Patrick collected or wrote himself throughout the years to find a hint leading them to something they weren't not quite sure about what it really was they were searching for.

They did not care about the fact that they had no idea what to search for, they were only fascinated by everything they saw and found out. A lot of Patrick's handwritten books were even older than two-hundred years and Jack and Caithleen thumped through them carefully and curious. The same applied when they unfolded lots of different maps and charts being sketched and painted to all thinkable materials.

Parchment, linen and obviously even expensive mold-made paper were amongst the materials as well as wooden tablets or dried palm-tree and tobacco leaves. All those charts and maps showed coastlines – known and unknown and they were inscribed with Patrick's unique and unmistakable handwriting. His notes and the charts astonishingly weathered all the years without prejudice and the two young pirates felt as if they found a treasure.

Maybe it was a kind of treasure – or even more than that, because it was not based on unmeasurable riches but on memories and remembrances.

Somewhen after hours Caithleen rubbed her eyes and grasped for the carafe with fresh water standing close to her on a small desk. She took a deep draft from out of it and poured the rest of the water into her palm to spread it to her face in order to cool it. She blinked for several times and turned round to have a look at Jack. He was still busy with thumbing through one of Patrick's books and his cheeks were glowing with excitement.

It turned out that Patrick Swallow had not just been a brilliant pirate and strategist but that he also had diligently kept diaries about his adventures, experiences and awarenesses. Uncountable of his notebooks lay in an old chest, imbedded within soft leather, inscribed with his fine, narrow handwriting. Besides he had added drawings, sketches and images, had put leaves from several plants amongst the pages for drying them and had noted coordinates, times of days and stellar constellations. Having a first look at all these notes they appeared haphazardly and poorly sorted but while having another look at them every good sailor was able to find out the deeper sense of every single note.

Caithleen smiled while she kept taps on Jack. He barely dared turning away his gaze from all those fascinating images, dates and writings.

"I never thought you would love to end up as a kind of scholar some day, Jack Sparrow", she remarked with a lovingly taunting undertone within her voice.

"Oh, nothing like that to fear concerning me, sweet", he replied: "but this is a treasure. A treasure not buyable with all the money all around the world. Wherefrom did Patrick get all these books and maps? Some of them are too old that he could have been able to buy or steal them while being new. They're much older than the first days of piracy within the Caribbean..."

"I'm afraid I've no answer for you concerning this. I don't know where he found all these charts, books and writings. All those chests, caskets and crates had been already aboard the "Stream" when he freed me and my mother from out of Vargas' claws. Sometimes he spent the whole night sitting on the deck or on the cliffs, staring into the dark sky, drawing sketches, making calculations and copying it all to his maps and charts. He showed and taught me a bit of it after we found this island and this hideout but about most of his knowledge he kept silent. All I know is that he wanted to get behind all those riddles and secrets about hidden treasures, mysterious rituals and gruesome curses." She let out a laugh: "I guess he would have loved much more to be a kind of discoverer or explorer than just a humble pirate."

"Oh my sweet Caith, if I would be able to get behind still unsolved riddles and if I would be able to find one or two treasures on my way doing so I would also prefer to be an explorer or an adventurer instead of a bloody pirate..."

"Oh yes, and probably you would be the one being able to find out where all the others never get behind up till now..."

"Oi, love! Of course! I would become the worlds most famous adventurer and I would share all the fame with you I would reach without any doubt. I swear it to you by the pain of death..."

"No, thank you, Jack! I'm much more interested in you while knowing you're still alive." Caithleen raised her hand with a warding gesture: "We're not meant for getting honored like that. We're nothing else but villainously pirates..."

"Privateers!" Jack answered with a smirk.

"Pardon?"

"It's privateers, love..."

"Pah! Dream on, Jack! We're nothing else but pirates!" She gazed at him insistently: "What do you think how long it would need until young Master Beckett would forget about the fact that his father provided you with Letters of Marque if he would come to know what we found here? If you would find some of those treasures the ancient legends want to make us believe in? He would take your knowledge, scuttle your ship and kill you..."

"Ah! I finally get you! So you really believe I would tell him about it, eh?" Jack grasped one of the pancakes rolled it together and went on with his mouth full: "Why should I be supposed to do something stupid like that, eh? At least I share all my plunder with him so there's no reason to me why I should share my secrets with him as well. Savvy?"

"Is that so?" Caithleen beheld him thoughtfully: "You're not afraid of what he possibly would do to you to get behind your secrets?"

"Nope, love, I'm not! Why shall I care about something which will never happen at all? Tell me, love, what else should I want to long for but what I already own, eh? Let's think about it for a moment – a short moment at least. I own a ship even if I have to admit that it is not my ship at all we sail on. I own a pretty little cottage up here upon the cliffs although I don't want to spend my whole lifetime within its whitewashed walls. And I own the heart and the love of a young, pretty and clever lass, a stubborn pirate lass who always reminds me of the fact that she's not only pretty but also clever and stubborn. So, tell me, Caith, what else should I long for?"

Caithleen laughed: "Oh please stop it Jack! I see you're the thoroughly happiest person on earth. I will never again doubt this..."

Jack gazed at her acting the pouting guy while stuffing the rest of his pancake into his mouth and wiping his hand clean on his pants: "I get you, love, you don't believe in me!" He leaned back until he felt the warmth of her back close to his then he remarked sounding unusually stern: "I am happy, Caithleen Stevens. It very well may be that our lives are not worth one single Shilling but we're free to live our lives the way we want to..."

They remained sitting there together that way until Jack grasped for another casket and opened its cover. His dark eyes widened in surprise while he stared into the small casket being totally out of speach.

He reached out his hand behind him and felt for Caithleen's: "Have a look at this, love!"

"Something wrong?" Caith turned round towards him, had a look, stopped short and frowned: "What's this?"

"I've not the slightest idea but it looks as it it had a very special meaning for our dear Patrick."

The small casket was lined with blood-red velvet and the book lying within it was imbedded in soft tanned leather. Golden letters were imprinted to its binding but it was a language neither Jack nor Caithleen were able to read or to understand. Underneath the fine golden lines something else was engraved. It was a sun close to the horizon and it was not to spot if it showed sunrise or sunset.

Jack and Caithleen changed a puzzled gaze then he opened the book carefully. It was without any doubt Patrick's handwriting and what he kept within this unimpressive little casket left the two young pirates speechless for a rather long moment.

On almost uncountable pages Patrick had noted all his knowledge he had been able to find out while having sailed the seven seas about the myth of an eternal life. Sketches, drawings, notes and characters leaving hints on several cultures were also amongst the pages like sidenotes and question marks.

Patrick had brought together everything he found out about curses, hidden graves and forgotten temples. He had noted all these different variations on this one single theme and he had documented how much the different temples, sepultures, pyramids and legends of different cultures resembled each other although they were spread round the whole known world and although they developed on different continents.

Nearly every people Patrick came across while he made berth on different shores round the seven seas knew stories worth to be told about eternal life, immortality and all those dangers lying on the paths to get there or to reach them – curses, demons, challenges, ghosts and surveys.

"It's wonderful!" Caithleen let her hand slide over the notebook's binding in admiration: "I cannot remember when or where he found all this out or when and where he searched for all this. But maybe all of it is an explanation while he locked himself up within his cabin so often. All those drawings, maps, stellar constellations... Patrick must have searched for something and maybe he even found it..."

"I think I know what it is, love. The dream we all possibly dreamt already once in our lifetime", Jack presumed: "The dream of an eternal life..."

"I don't know", Caithleen thoughtfully shook her head: "If it would have been that way he must have been able to mislead us all stunningly well throughout the years. No, I think he was thrilled by the adventure finding all this out meant to him. He loved to get behind these mysteries, to unscramble them. Can't believe Patrick to care about an eternal life. He was too much bound to this one single life he had lived to believe in something different..."

"Equal what it was he searched for, one thing is dead certain, Caith, he knew very well why he kept these notes away from the world outside. He knew what would have happened if someone would have found his notes..."

"Our world would run mad while every man would become greedy to get behind the secret of immortality...At all costs..."

"You would not want it?"

"No!" Caithleen shook her head vehemently: "Just the adventure to search for it..." She gave him a wink and added: "What's going on behind your brow, Jack Sparrow? What do you have in mind? Now, while keeping such a treasure within your hands?"

"Well, to be honest, sweet, I'll bury it. Up here upon the cliffs. Until we're free some day to use this book without getting in danger that greedy trading companies or privateers will come to know about it."

"You won't want to use it then?"

"No!" Jack placed to book carefully back into the casket and closed the cover: "No! It's not the right time for using it, love." He beheld the precious he kept within his hands and added: "You already said it: Beckett would rapidly forget about the Letters of Marque he provided us with. Much more rapidly if he would come to know about this book. No one except you and me is in the know about it and as long as I breathe no one else but you and me will ever learn about it. I'm no fool, Caith, and even if the knowledge it hides seems to be alluring there's no need for me to search for a mysterious Fountain of Youth. As long as I'm able to keep you within my arms I do not need a Fountain of Youth..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Within this night neither Jack nor Caithleen were able to fall asleep. Tightly embraced they lay upon their bed within their little chamber wrapped in a blanket and staring into the slowly ebbing night with open eyes.

Jack bedded his head on her tender waist and wrapped his arms closer round her body but he kept silent. Caithleen let her fingers slip through his hair with a smile and caressed his cheek.

Somewhen she heard Jack ask: "What do you think, sweet, was Patrick right?"

"With what?"

"He once said that – if there would go anything wrong some day – there would be at any rate", he bashfully cleared his throat before he finished his sentence: "Well he said that if there would go anything wrong some day we would have some pretty little bastards...At any rate..."

"Oh Jack!" Caithleen laughed a hearty laugh: "I can assure you if it should happen some day we will find it out – at any rate. But believe me I'm not unhappy about the fact that obviously nothing has gone wrong up till now..."

"You're not?" Jack raised up to his elbow and cocked his head: "Phew! I'm a lucky one as it seems – I'm not unhappy about this fact as well..."

"Great! But tell me something different, my temerarious and foolhardy pirate – what we're supposed to do next?"

"Well", he rolled round to his back, dragging Caithleen with him: "we will set sail and return to London. There we will hand over the prey to Beckett and pocket out part of the plunder. Then we will thank him for the grace to let us sail upon our vessel for another year. Having gotten rid of all those duties we will hand Bill's letter over to Elianor and spent several nights between fluffy cushions and linen sheets within our chamber in Sir Edwin's mansion. You will see we will be back at sea within a wink of an eye..."

"I understand..."

"You do?" He grinned while he placed one of his legs between hers and breathed a kiss upon her lips. "Are you certain, sweet?"

Caithleen wrapped one of his curls round her fingers and responded: "I am, Jack Sparrow..."

Her voice was just a silent whisper close to his ear but it got deep under his skin. He kept her close again if this was even possible any more and turned her round with one single fluent move that she came to lie upon her back and he upon her tender body: "Let's find out if you're telling me the truth..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Two days later the "Eagle's Wing" set full canvas and set course towards the open ocean. Her heading was London and it would be this year's last passage she had to endure. As soon as she would reach her berth at London Port all the goods and treasures she carried within her freight holds would be reloaded into the storehouses of the East India Trading Company.

Jack knew Beckett expected them to sail another year for the Company and he expected him as well to join the chart drawers again throughout the Winter.

All he hoped was that this year's Winter would not last too long...


	17. 1721 Reginald and Cutler Beckett

**Chapter 16: 1721 Reginald and Cutler Beckett**

It was already near dusk when Jack decided it was time to leave the pier where he just had inspected the „Eagle's Wing" once again and to head towards home.

Heading home in this case having the meaning of heading towards the mansion of Sir Edwin Cole a bit outside London town.

He knew he was late and he also knew he would reach the weaving mill and the idyllic mansion near the river long after nightfall.

Letting out a silent curse he wrapped himself tightly in his jacket when an icy wind blew through the narrow lane and made him shiver. Obviously Winter wasn't willing to surrender to the upcoming Spring this year without struggling hard and persistently.

With a sigh Jack turned round again to have another look at the pier and his ship, then he went on hurrying towards home.

It would at least take another two or three weeks until the "Eagle's Wing" would finally set sail again and finally head towards the open ocean and towards a new adventure with a new order and with an eager crew aboard. Jack wanted to make use of the remaining days ashore to assure himself that she was ready for the sea, stuffed with everything they would need while staying out at sea and crewed by trustable men.

Together with his first mate Jacobsen he had spent the whole day aboard searching the whole ship for spots, holes and rips the craftsmen Lord Beckett ordered to restore the "Wing" possibly may have had overlooked. But neither he nor Jacobsen were able to find fault with the work of the men. The "Wing" found herself within an excellent condition and meanwhile Jack longed for returning aboard and to the open sea.

The Winter had come surprisingly early and shortly after they returned to London and although it was mid the month of March meanwhile there did not seem to be an end in reach of the cold days and the icy nights. Never again the days, weeks and months ashore felt passing by that slowly to Jack like they did this time – although Sir Edwin tried everything to make Jack's and Caithleen's stay within his house as comfortable as possible and although the chart drawers Jack used to help throughout the winter months had enough work to do for spending night and day on it.

"Jack! Wait a moment, lad!" Jacobsen caught up with him just when he wanted to get round a corner leading to another lane: "Are you sure you don't want to accompany me to the tavern tonight? It could be helpful for hiring men if you would be the one to hire them this time. You didn't do it for a rather long time."

"Don't get me wrong, mate but I only long for just one thing tonight..."

"...which of course is cuddling up within Miss Caith's warm embrace, Aye? Oh, I already got you, lad."

"Have I ever told you..."

"...that I'm annoying and that my behavior is inadequate?" Jacobsen grinned and shrugged: "More than once. You never cared, right...?"

"Never!" Jack returned the grin and added: "Hire the men, mate, and pick up some eager guys. I trust you with this. And now, before I will perish by cold..." He greeted his first mate and left him where he stood while he himself hurried over the street straight towards the lane ahead.

Jacobsen looked after him for a short moment before he turned on his heels and headed towards the tavern where he knew he would find some fitting men to hire.

Just a few men left the "Wing" after they returned to London with the intention not to sail under the command of the young captain any more but nevertheless they were in need of some more hands aboard if they really had in mind to set sail with the first mild breeze of Spring.

Jack did not turn round again. He trusted Jacobsen and he would never doubt the decision the old salt would make but the only thing he wanted to think about now was to get home as soon as possible to place himself in front of the heated fireplace within Sir Edwin Cole's parlor – not to mention Caithleen's warm embrace...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Barely half an hour could have passed by when Jack realized a rumbling behind him coming along the road he found himself walking on. It followed the river leaving the town in the direction of the settlement where Sir Edwin's mansion was to find. Jack had a strained look round the whole place just being enlightened by the pale light of the full moon which round face hung calm and clear high above the river and the town.

"Bugger!"

He wasn't unprepared for the awareness that there was no possibility hiding himself but the riverbank and the back slope but it was exactly that awareness which felt to be very unwelcome within this moment. He found himself without his weapons – because he left his sword and his pistols when he left the chamber this morning he and Caithleen shared within Sir Edwin's house whenever they stayed in London. Denying that he longed for finding both of it on his belt within this moment would have meant to belie himself.

This was why Jack decided to remain standing at exactly that spot where he found himself. Obviously he came to the conclusion of this to be the best solution to his problem. Thereby he knew very well that it was the only solution to his problem.

The rumbling soon came closer caused by the wheels of a heavy carriage and Jack knew this carriage to be much faster than he was equal how fast he might have been able to run...

He had not to wait very long until the carriage appeared just a few meters away from him with its lanterns throwing a bright but not the same warm shimmer of light to his face when the coachman let the horses stop.

The door of the carriage showed the emblem of the East India Trading Company and there was no doubt about its owner – it was the carriage of Lord Raginald Beckett. But it was not the old Lord in person who opened the door now, waving him to come closer and to enter the coach.

"Mister Sparrow! Would you be so kind to share a small amount of your of course precious time with me to provide me with another small amount of your undivided attention?"

It was the presumptuous and not less arrogant voice of the young Lord to-be and the leader of the Company to-be – Cutler Beckett.

Jack wasn't really surprised to find the young man instead of the old Lord inside the carriage. Even he got reached by rumor and hearsay about the health and the physical condition of Lord Reginald.

It was obvious that the first man of the East India Trading Comapny felt weak and tired and it was not to foreclose that there was a hint of truth hidden within all the rumor because Lord Reginald already had turned some of his duties over to his son by now – but there was no hint that he planned to retire soon.

Deep inside his innermost Jack hoped the old Lord would stay with the Company as long as possible and that it would need much longer until young Cutler Beckett would become the head of the Company.

Jack turned round and sashayed over to the coach. He gazed into it with a smirk and said: "Ah, the future Lord in person! What is it providing me the honor of you following me the whole way from out of town towards Sir Edwin's mansion? Eh?"

"As reluctant as I've to admit this, there's an urgent need to talk to you, Sparrow."

How reluctantly was to get while listening to the tone of his words.

"And therefore you take a ride out here within an icy night like this? Eh?" Jack wasn't able to hide a certain taunting undertone: "Why is this, Beckett? If you want to talk to me why did you not visit me with the chart drawers? You will barely have forgotten where I'm to find throughout the day..."

"Barely! No need for reminding me! It's just because I'm not interested in getting eavesdropped by some pairs of curious ears, a dozen chart drawers or some overeager privateers whit what I've to discuss with you tonight."

"Ah! I see! You hide some secrets from your father then, Aye? And you want me to share them?" Jack grinned: "Of course you will understand when I prefer heading home, will you?"

"Mister Sparrow, this was neither an invitation nor a plea! I expect you to join me and listen to what I want to tell you. By free will! If not I've no other choice but handing the part of getting you inside this coach over to my trusted coachman. He will help you with getting in then."

"Well, I think this helping-me-in-thing won't be necessary, mate. Why haven't you told me this right when you arrived?" Jack beheld the coachmen but due to his straightened up coat collar he wasn't able to spot the man's face. After several moments of reconsidering the pros and cons of not following Beckett's 'invitation' Jack decided that he had no other choice but getting into the carriage.

Beckett looked contented and remarked while he closed the door behind Jack: "I knew you would be amenable to the right argument, Sparrow!"

"Oh I already got you, mate. But tell me would not a pistol have been the much better argument within this case? A pistol pointing straight at my brow? I dare to claim you would enjoy killing me..."

"Not now!" Beckett replied with a strange smile: "And of course not here. First because it's not to foreclose that some invisible and unwelcome witnesses are strolling around here close to the river and second because I'm definitely not interested in besmirching my coach and my clothes with your blood."

"Charming as always and still hitting the spot without talking around it..."

"I'm not here to waste my time having some chit-chat with you."

"Not?" Jack cocked an eyebrow within some acted astonishment: "Should I've been that wrong about you all the time?" He bent over and had a straight look into Beckett'S face: "No? Of course not! You're not the one for having some ineffectual chit-chat – equal who you're talking to. You're with me out here at this time and at this godforsaken lonely place to betray your father. Aye?"

Beckett's pale face and his powdered white wig were shimmering within the moonlight and it was abundantly clear what was going on behind his brow – if it was the right decision to let the young pirate in into his plans.

Finally he declared: "Belike you may wonder why I want to talk to you out of all. Am I right?"

"Believe me, Beckett, there is not much out there anymore which is supposed to make me wondering about – except this one single question: Why can't you wait with betraying your father's values until he's dead? You will inherit his title, his influence and his reputation, although I think this you should have to earn not to inherit. But this is not part of my question. So tell me, where's the difference of starting your own secret business now or after your father's death?"

"That's very easy, Mister Sparrow, and I thought you might be somehow more clever", Beckett covered his legs with a blanket and stared at Jack: "The "Wing" is still moored to the pier at the moment. So I'm still able to entrust you with a new mission, one you can accomplish effortlessly beside your other duties against the Company."

"Is that so? Well, I guess I get your plan, mate. Some secondary business, Aye?" Jack smirked: "Tell me, mate, how secondary this business is..."

"Extraordinarily secondary, Sparrow, but the same it's extraordinarily promising, extraordinarily seminal and extraordinarily profitable. Means your share of this profit would also be extraordinarily high."

"What is it making you think I'm that extraordinarily greedy?"

"Now, now, Sparrow! Getting a grand amount of money for just doing a bit secondary business has nothing to do with greed."

"Has not?"

"Listen to me carefully! What I will tell you now is just meant for being heard by you and me and if the Company or my father should get informed about it I will deny having talked to you, having met you and having even known about anything about it!"

"Tell me why I did not expect anything else from you, Beckett?"

"There's no need for getting cynical, Sparrow! You know my father and you know he would never do anything which could turn out to be a mistake if it comes to deal with the company. It's just that he regrettably sticks to his values and old traditions. Too much! He still sticks to his privateers and to all those Letters of Marque. He still believes that it is profitable enough to capture French or Spanish ships, to plunder them and to sell these goods on our own. Thereby he misses that neither the French nor the Spanish really suffer from the loss of theses goods. Not to mention other seafaring nations."

"And you believe in having found a solution to this problem?" Jack furrowed his brow thoughtfully. This conversation got a turn causing him discomfort.

"I found a solution, yes! And as it turns out you can be very helpful with getting the Company much more influence and reputation."

"Will you tell me what goods you are talking about? Of course you will understand that I want to know what it is you want me to take aboard my ship. Not that I'm distrustful against you, but..."

"It's not your ship, Sparrow. It's the Company's ship and whatever it is the Company wants you to take aboard you will take aboard. Never forget while making your decision that it is up to me to displace you from the vessel and your duties." Beckett waved this words aside with a gesture of his hand and went on: "We should not waste our time with discussing such negligebilities. I want to prove to my father that it is time to think about new ways of trade and you will help me with this. Your next journey will lead you to the Mediteranean Sea and the African shore. As far as I'm informed. So I will make up a concourse where you will meet another of my trustworthy captains. You will take the goods aboard he will send over to you and you will set sail towards our colonies in New England immediately. Without asking for the why, the wherefrom and the whatfor. Did I make myself clear?"

"Whoh! One moment, mate! Not that fast! What do you think how stupid I am, Beckett? You want me to trade slaves over to the colonies? Against the explicit order your father made?"

Beckett was barely able to keep his mien steady and Jack gazed at him contentedly when he went on: "Ah! I see! I'm right! Slaves then! And I was supposed to act the fool not being in the know about it, eh?" He shook his head: "No, I will neither provide my ship for this nor myself. You want to sell slaves? Well, you will have to do this on your own. And now, Mister Beckett, you will for sure understand that I've to leave. I'm a privateer in the name of the Company not a slave trader. Good evening, Sir..."

Jack opened the door of the carriage and wanted to jump out of it when Beckett remarked: "If you want to sail for the Company in the future, Sparrow, you should think your decision over soon. My father will not remain the head of the East India Trading Company forever. Good evening, Mister Sparrow..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Just when Jack wanted to enter the parlor of Sir Edwin's house the next morning he stopped in front of its door in astonishment when he already heard voices within it at this early hour. He knocked at the door, opened it and had a look inside – then he stopped short.

The sight this morning provided him with was definitely not a common sight and he asked himself what it was leading this unexpected visitor out of the town and towards Sir Edwin's mansion at this hour. Towards the mansion of his political opponent.

The matutinal visitor was no one less than Lord Reginald Beckett.

Sir Edwin raised his head when he heard Jack closing the door and gazed at the young man while getting up: "Ah! Jack! Come in, son, no need for hesitating. Our guest is here because he wants to talk to you not to me."

Apparently a question mark appeared upon Jack's face because Lord Reginald smiled at him and answered his not asked question: "I'm in the know about your nightly encounter, Mister Sparrow, and it's exactly why I want to talk to you."

Beckett nodded at Sir Edwin and he responded: "I will leave you alone then. If you want me to I will send fresh tea over to you."

"No, thank you, Master Cole. I don't think this will need that long."

Both men changed another look and with it Sir Edwin left Jack and Beckett alone within the parlor.

Jack placed himself within a chair close to the fireplace and kept taps on Lord Reginald: "You came to know about said nightly conversation?"

"Up till now I'm still the one running the destiny of the Company, Sparrow, and nothing my son is going to do is kept from my eye. Even if he assaults one of my privateers in the middle of the night like a kind of highwayman."

"An amusing image." Jack smiled: "But not really fitting..."

"What do you want to tell me? That I'm not aware of everything my son tries to do behind my back? He's driven on by his blind ambition but not in the way I would want my follower to be driven on."

"Something wrong?" Jack frowned, being surprised about Beckett's open words: "You sound much less confident than some years ago when you asked me to sail for you and when provided me with the Letters of Marque."

"No, that's true, young man", Beckett answered while letting out a sigh: "You're a smart and resourceful young man, Jack Sparrow. I'm aware of it, you're aware of it and my son is aware of it as well although he's not as convinced about my sympathy against you as I am. Last night he acted neither within my name nor within the name of the Company – and it was not for the first time that I had to realize this." He hesitated before he added: "And the Holy Lord may be my witness, it's not the first time either that I doubt my decision to make him my follower."

"I understand what you want to tell me, but, may I ask, why you are telling me this? Wouldn't it be a case to deal with for the Company and its shareholders?" Jack leaned back into the chair still keeping taps on Beckett.

"My dear, young friend, what I will tell you now is not meant to leave these walls equal what may happen."

"Sir?"

Beckett waved Jack to join him and he went on not until Jack sat by his side at the little table: "My son is eager, ambitious and intelligent. What I never wanted to believe is that he is also greedy and ruthless." He smiled a tired smile when Jack gazed at him in astonishment: "What? Don't tell me you did not notice it as well, young man! The two of you may be of the same age but you could not be more different. No, Sparrow, my son handles secondary business behind my back. I know it. Gold is no longer the most valuable treasure to find aboard these ships you and other privateers are capturing within the Company's name. Spice, tea, coffee cocoa and other goods are much more lucrative now...And one trade has become the most lucrative..."

"Slave trade?"

"Yes, young man, slave trade!" The old Lord grimaced: "I always tried to act for the Company in the best way I knew and its profit always proofed me of having been right but I never had in mind to trade slaves. Maybe this is the one single topic I agree about with your host."

"Well, that very well may be but it still does not explain why you're telling it to me?"

"My son will become my follower whatever is supposed to happen someday but I fear he will lead the Company in dangerous waters which can lead it to its ruin. That's why I decided to put my estate in a new order. No one is allowed to tell me if or how to devide the parts of my estate in the end And I decided to devide it."

"So there is someone you can trust in?" Jack beheld him to not only miss one single move of the old Lord.

"Yes, Sparrow, there is someone I can trust in. One half of my estate I will transcribe to my son..."

"And who will get the other half of it?"

"You, Sparrow! I want you and my son to share this responsibility if I have to leave some day."

Jack stared at Beckett out of wide open eyes – being totally confused and surprised. He raised his hand in some kind of warding gesture and replied: "Whoh! One moment, Sir, not that fast! Did I get you right? You want me to become one of two leaders of the East India Trading Company? Pardon, Sir, if I doubt you. I'm nothing but a humble pirate – privateer – and I've not the slightest idea about politics or leading a Company. I'm a sailor, Sir, married to my vessel and the sea. I get disturbed if I'm forced to stay ashore much longer than necessary. I need to feel the planks and the waves underneath my feet..."

"I would never force you to stay ashore, Sparrow, but knowing you at my son's side would leave me with the certainty that there is someone around him being able to stop him if necessary."

"How much time do I have to think it over, Sir?"

"Oh, I don't have in mind to pass away that soon, young Captain Sparrow. No one will come to know anything about this conversation. I will keep silent about this meeting and I guess you're clever enough not to talk about it as well. Take your time. It will do if you'll give me an answer as soon as you're back from your next journey."

Jack hesitated before he asked: "Is it true that our journey will lead me and my crew into the Mediterranean Sea and along the African shore?"

"That's what I've planned so far. I want you to find out who of our privateers betrays us. I know some of them playing a double game but I don't have any prove about it up till now. Provide me with this prove, Captain Sparrow, and I will think about transcribing the "Wing" to you..."


	18. 1723 Attacked out of the Dark

**Chapter 17: 1723 Attacked out of the Dark**

"Prove me being wrong, lad, but you look as if thinking about leaving Genoa is as repugnant to you as ending up as fish food down at Davy Jones' Locker. At least that's what your expression tells me..."

Jacobsen went up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and got caught by surprise when he found Jack up there astern leaning against the rail. Obviously the young Captain was deep in thoughts while he stared at the Italian port slowly vanishing at the horizon. It nearly was as if he, who was always in a hurry to set sail as fast as possible whenever they made berth, seemed to trouble over something.

They had reached the port of Genoa several days ago – actually to once again stow fresh water and supplies and to rest for a while until they would start heading towards the end of their long journey. The lively town with its trading houses, taverns and its long history as being the home of some legendary seafarers was supposed to be their last station until they would finally return to London and for Jack it seemed to be the most pleasurable place to spend some time with Caithleen without getting disturbed by the crew.

The "Eagle's Wing", her crew and her Captain had been at sea for about more than one year. They did sail along the African shore – always intent on avoiding the omnipresent pirates of Madagascar whose brotherhood and coast Captains had made up their headquarters within a bay somewhere round the island at the end of the bygone century – and they did sail from port to port round the whole Mediteranean Sea to stow the most valuable trading goods within the "Wing's" freight rooms and stowages.

So every man aboard felt good when they finally reached Genoa and decided to stay even longer than already planned before.

An Italian port was very welcome to stay within because the Italians weren't eager on hunting for an English privateer sailing the Mediterranean Sea – unlike the French or the Spanish – the less if said privateer sailed under the flag of a well known trading company.

Now it was that even Genoa lay behind them and with every sea mile the "Wing" put between herself and the town Jack got more and more calm and thoughtful.

Somewhen he turned round and faced Jacobsen: "Well, mate, I'm not quite sure what it is, but I definitely feel not very well while thinking about the fact that we will still need some days of sailing until we got past France and Spain. I wished we would already have passed the Strait of Gibraltar."

"Ha? Did I get you right, lad? Since when do you belong to those fellows who use to take a gloomy view of their fortune?"

"Since I've the awkward feeling of someone or something following us. Savvy?"

"Who should follow us? And since when?"

"This, Mister Jacobsen, is exactly what concerns me. I neither can tell you who it is nor can I tell you since when this 'who' follows us." Jack had a look over his shoulder once again to have a last view on the silhouette of the port of Genoa then he added: "No one would dare to attack us as long as it's bright daylight, so I want you to double the watch throughout the nights to come."

"Tell, me Jack, could it be possible you see ghosts?" Jacobsen sounded thoroughly stern.

"I will answer this as soon as we passed Gibraltar, mate..."

"Aye, Captain!" Jacobsen just shrugged to this answer and was already on his way passing Jack's order on to the crew, when something else came to his mind: "Jack, the men wanted me to ask you if they are allowed to celebrate a bit tonight. You know, the end of this long journey, the filled to the brim freight rooms of our beloved lady here and the proper prey waiting for every single man aboard as soon as we're back in London..."

Jack hesitated, not quite sure what to do but finally he nodded and replied: "Tell them they're allowed to celebrate – Caith and I will join them – but the men shall keep their heads clear. They can get themselves plastered as soon as the "Wing" is moored to an English pier. If it is as far as they have a real reason to do so. And now, Mister Jacobsen, I want you to take care that we will use the fresh breeze which grants us a quick sail towards an end of this journey..."

"I'm already on my way, Sir..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Caithleen raised upon an elbow and touched softly Jack's shoulder after he had fallen into a fitful sleep and after he tossed and turned from one side to the other within their shared berth: "What's wrong with you? You hadn't had that much rum to sleep that twitchy. Don't want to tell what it is troubling you?"

"Maybe I had not enough rum." Jack rolled round and rubbed his eyes when he came to lie upon his back again. Afterwards he stared at the ceiling with wide open eyes.

He asked: "Tell me, Caith, have you already had the feeling someone would follow you or someone would keep taps on you but every time you turn round there is nothing to spot. There is nothing but this feeling. Just the feeling, nothing concrete..."

"So you have said feeling?"

"Aye, love! I have it since we left the port of Alexandria on the Egypt coast. As if there's someone close on our heels or at least as if there's someone already waiting for us when we make port the next time."

"Any idea who?"

"Not the slightest, sweet." Jack thought about it and suddenly he smirked: "Although... There are a lot of Captains sailing the seven seas we disburdened of their freight since we're privateers sailing for his majesty the King of England and the honorable East India Trading Company. Quite thinkable that there are some of them hell-bent by all means to send us down to the depths before we will reach England."

"Not only thinkable, but most likely." Caithleen breathed a kiss upon his temple and continued: "The more because you not only plundered trading ships but other pirates as well..."

"Thanks for reminding me, love." Jack pouted: "You won't want to make me believe that one of them followed us from the Caribbean over to the Mediterranean Sea? Eh?"

"I would never dare to do so, Captain. But what's with all Lord Reginald trusted you with? His suspect one or more of his Captains could betray him? It's very well possible that one of them would be glad to get rid of you."

"Caith, love, I'm aware of it. Very well aware! And I would not dare to foreclose it, but", he rolled over to his side to be able to look at her within the little light of a single lantern: "you should not worry about it any longer. It will do if I rack my brain. Aye? If I'm right we will come to know it soon enough. Maybe Jacobsen is right at all and it's nothing but a ghost that troubles me." Caithleen laughed and Jack wrapped an arm round her tender body: "So you also believe I'm haunted by ghosts, do you? Eh?"

"Who knows", she pushed her knee between his legs and whispered close to his lips: "but I couldn't care less about all these being the truth or just deceit as long as you're close to me, dear fellow..."

"I see! So you're not concerned about me being in need of tearing off your clothes off you if you will go on with making tries to seduce me...?"

"There's not need any more for trying it, Captain Sparrow, I already succeeded." Her hand slipped under the blanket and she added while she noticed he shivered under her touch and while she heard he inhaled his gasp sharply: "I can hear it and – much better – I can feel it..."

The same moment he grasped her, dragged her with him that she came to lie upon his body and covered her lips with his while his hands impatiently freed her from her light nightgown. He knew he was rough when he entered her but her lustful sigh told him she did not care.

His kiss got deeper and the slight pout shown upon his face when she broke it got washed away by his pleasure when she started moving upon his lap.

Jack closed his eyes – his sweet love knew the rhythm of his quickening heartbeat, every single of his sighs and moans was the answer to it. He cupped her breasts willing to cause her pleasure as well, started to caress their sensitive tips and smiled a contented smile when she got out of rhythm.

His hands slipped down her back while he sat up, grabbed her sweet dernière that she would not lose hold and held her in a firm grip. He opened his eyes again and beheld her.

Caithleen was covered in sweat, her eyes were dark from desire and lust and she let out another sigh when his lips and his tongue started to caress one of her breasts while his fingers carefully squeezed the tip of the other.

The game of love and desire changed and Caithleen surrendered to him when he started to dictate the rhythm now. She wanted him and she made no secret of it. She embraced him as tight as possible and Jack knew she was close to the edge.

He grabbed her with her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. There was no need to force her lips apart – they parted willingly, granted him entrance as well when he kissed her as rough as he thrusted into her.

Jack wanted to feel her as close as possible, he wanted to hold her as tight as possible and he wanted to thrust into her as deep as possible when he got aware that she buried her fingernails into the skin of his back, that she shivered under his moves and his touches and that she collapsed within his arms being totally exhausted, panting for air and barely able to react anymore.

It needed just a few more thrusts then to send him over the edge as well.

Brow against brow they sat within their berth, barely able to move or to speak, arms and legs still mingled and both of them still out of gasp.

"My sweet, foolish and lustful little piratess..." Jack whispered while he dragged her with him when he sank back amongst the cushions...

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

It was long after midnight – during the quiet hours right before sunrise – when the first balls hit the water surface next to the „Eagle's Wing".

It needed some time until the men aboard realized what was going on and came to life.

Except the two men who kept watch that night, the steersman at the helm and the man up within the crow's nest no one was awake at this early hour.

As he had promised Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew had a little celebration that night and even if it was not as frisky as it would get after their return to London it was nevertheless frisky enough to sleep well and deep.

The "Wing" was still on her course back from the Mediterranean Sea heading towards the Atlantik and towards London, her cargo hold – filled to the brim with valuable fabrics, flavorsome oils, precious carpets, barrels filled with wine, spice and olives and crates with tea and lemons – supposed to be a proper prey for any pirate sailing the seven seas.

It was a cargo that would bring in a very good amount of money for the East India Trading Comnpany and a nice prize for the Captain and his crew.

There was waiting only one single challenge left for them: The "Wing" must try to avoid getting ambushed by the French while sailing past the isle of Corsica and not to get captured by the Spanish while passing Gibraltar. So that was the reason why the Captain and the crew did not celebrate their profitable bargains the way they would have loved to.

It seemed as if the aggressor had waited for exactly this moment and it seemed also as if they were in the know about the fact that the "Wing" would try to cross these dangerous waters right within this night.

"Ship on larboard! They're going to attack us!" The man up in the crow's nest reacted as fast as he was able to and tried strained as hell to recognize who it was being hell-bent to attack them right here and now out of the dark, but there was no hint within this moment: "Wake up the Captain!"

The guard reacted immediately and rang the bell.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Within the Captain's cabin it was all silent. The single lantern still spent a little light, apart from this the only sounds to be heard in here were Jack's and Caithleen's soft breaths. They lay tightly embraced within the berth and were still fast asleep.

It took a while until the loud and recurring knocking found its way over from the door to Jack's awareness – straight through his sweet dreams of a night full of pleasure. Only reluctantly he finally opened his eyes and grimaced when he realized that this annoying sound was no illusion.

He was still dozy and his dark eyes were still dreamy when he decided that he had no other choice but getting up. Tried not to wake up Caithleen as well he just wanted to slip out from underneath the blankets when the door got torn open and Jacobsen rushed in – a troubled mien upon his face followed by the noise the steps and the yelling of the men caused on the deck while preparing for a sea fight.

Jack frowned and gazed at the man half in disbelief and half reluctantly: "Mister Jacobsen, I suppose there is a very good reason being able to explain your for sure not really suitable demeanor, Aye?"

"Aye, Captain! Indeed there is! We get attacked and there is no sign who our enemy is, but, Sir, there is no doubt that this attack is meant dead seriously. They want to scuttle us!"

Like to confirm his words a ball smashed into the ship somewhere next to the galley.

"Never thought our cook to be that bad!" The same moment Jack was wide awake.

He turned towards the slender figure still sleeping at his side: "Caithleen! Wake up! We got company!"

Caithleen's black tuft raised from out of the cushions and her shining gray eyes blinked within the diffuse light of the flickering lantern: "I will never understand why an attack always takes place in the middle of the night!"

"There's no time to philosophize, love! Hurry!"

Jack got dressed within only a few moments, forced his feet into his boots and grasped for his weapons, but when he already wanted to leave the cabin he got aware of his friend and first mate who watched with wide open eyes and mouth while Caithleen slipped into her clothes as well. Her naked skin shimmered within the little light of the lantern and the play of shadow and light let her female attractions appear much more than only inspiring.

Jack cleared his throat: "Mister Jacobsen! I think it's not your turn to rate the virtues of my girl. Savvy? So hurry, mate, up to the deck! Otherwise you will swab the deck for the rest of our journey until we'll reach London! Got me!" He paused, had a short think over and added: "Well, if we'll return at all – as it were..."

"Aye, Captain! I got you! Oh, and sorry, Miss Caith, for my misbehavior! It was not with intent and..." Jacobsen stammered a poor excuse until Jack's frowning mien reminded him of his threat: "Swabbing the deck... I know, Captain..."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

On the deck of the "Eagle's Wing" chaos broke loose while their aggressor fired nearly without a break. Meanwhile not only the galley sustained heavy damage a part of the rail got torn away as well. The same applied to the sails while more than one other ball got smashed into the crew's quarters and the freight room.

As desperately as he had tried Jack did not succeed in steering the "Wing" out of the fire line and meanwhile the unknown ship already came alongside. Grapnels got thrown over at the "Wing" and bit by bit both ships drifted closer together.

"Who are they?" Caithleen stumbled up the steps leading to the helm. She was worried and she made no effort to hide it.

"I've not the slightest idea. All I know is that we will end down at Davy Jones' Locker soon if we won't come up with an idea. We, the ship and everything else aboard."

"We could try to get rid of them by blowing them away. You know how, Jack. The way Patrick used to get rid of his enemies. One broadside, maybe two should do. We have favorable winds and if we'll set full canvas we should manage to escape..."

"A broadside say you?" Jack nodded: "I agree, it's a very good idea, but you know as well as I do that we could get ripped as well, do you?"

"Do we have another choice"

Jack wasn't able to give a her a reply. He grabbed her and threw her to the ground together with him when close above their heads a ball smashed into the mast. All around them splints got spread and the mast swung alarming but it did not fall.

Scrapers and scratches within their faces Jack and Caithleen stumbled to their feet again.

"As it seems everything is said about full canvas, eh?" Jack grabbed Caithleen with her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes: "I can't help, love, but the idea of a broadside sounds much more alluring now. If you're still convinced about it I won't stand in your way. Hurry, love! Oh, and Caith, no needless risk!"

"What do you think! I don't want to die here!" Caithleen hurried down the stairs and vanished below while Jack tried to keep the "Wing" steady.

Shortly after the broadside hit the adverse ship.

It was too late!

Although the broadside pushed both ships apart the opposing crew started to board the "Wing" and ere he came to know what was going on Jack found himself midst a fight for survival.

While he slipped under and through the strikes of the sword and the cutlass of his enemy and and while he escaped both blades only within a hairsbreadth Jack had no time look out for the figure who came aboard now.

The Captain of the unknown ship had a determined look around until he got aware of Jack up at the helm.

A contented grin appeared upon his lips and brightened the face of Henry Batiste when he finally found where he had searched for that long. Today he would end this chapter of his life the way he had planned it years ago.

Mercilessly he pushed past the men aboard the "Wing" who fought for their lives and their ship.

The blast of a second broadside let some of the boarding lines tear apart and even another part of the rail got torn away.

Coughing and smeared with smut Caithleen stumbled back to the deck. She grasped for a hatchet and cut through the remaining lines until she got aware of the furious man being obviously the Captain of their enemies and being straight on his way up to the helm.

As fast as she was able to she hurried after him, came across smoldering debris, wounded and dead: "Whatever you may have in mind, you can stop thinking about it!"

She grasped her sword and its tip struck the stranger's back right between his shoulder blades.

Batiste turned round when he heard her voice and within one fluent move his sword lay in his hand ready to attack Caithleen without another word. His strikes came fast, aggressive and precise and nearly every strike left a cut upon her skin.

"Foolish broad! You dare to step in the way of Henry Batiste? Fool!"

The back of his hand hit her cheek with vehemency and Caithleen collapsed. He let go of her sword and before she was able to reach it Batiste stepped in her way and placed one of his boots upon the blade.

Barely with conscious Caithleen shook her head to get rid of the numbness: "Jack was right not to trust you, bastard!" She panted for air and tried to get up.

Batiste stood above her the pistol within his hand aimed at her: "Lo and behold who we have here! Jack's sweet little wench! As it seems he really ran nuts about you, eh?" He spat out next to her and went on: "You and this slob, Sparrow! What do you think which chances you have to escape this time? The Spanish are hell-bent to catch you and your ship, the French are hell-bent to catch you and your ship and as it seems I will be able to hand all of it over to them! Got me, little whore?"

"We?" Caithleen stopped short and frowned.

"Me and mon Capitaine, Cherie! The prize is more than enough for the two of us, believe me! All I regret is that there will be not enough time for me to spend it together with you.!"

"What is all of this about? You own Letters of Marque signed by the King and the Crown of England!"

Batiste burst out laughing: "Yes, lass, I own Letters of Marque. And no one will ever come to know that it was an English privateer who sent you and Sparrow down to the deep dark depths of the sea." He knelt down beside her and let his free hand roughly slip over her breast: "It's a pity! I would have loved to teach you how it feels to get ridden by a real man but unfortunately I've no time left for it. Well, then", he got up again with a smirk while he held her down with one boot on one of her shoulders: "Adieu, ma chére!" Batiste took one of his pistols and aimed at her again then he fired.

The shot cracked and Caithleen feared the pain must rip her. Her shoulder seemed to be aflame and she felt her arm getting numb. Tears welled up within her eyes – the same of anger and pain.

Batiste put his pistol back to his belt and left her where she lay convinced that his crew would finish her.

How she even so made it to get up Caithleen wasn't able to explain later on but somehow she succeeded anyhow. She picked herself up even if every single fiber within her body started rebelling against this try and grasped for the small dagger she always carried with her hidden within her boot. She tossed it after Batiste with all the strength she had left.

All she was able to hit was his thigh but his screams and his own pain provided her enough time to stumble over to the steps leading towards the helm. She felt her blood running down her shoulder and she feared everything could get black in front of her eyes before she would be able to reach Jack.

Jack himself missed everything going on behind him except that a shot cracked. He had no time to think about it. His enemy was swift, a very good swordsman – and for sure about a head's length taller.

Jack swore with gritted teeth and ducked to escape another strike when a heavy slap tossed him back against the helm. A well-directed kick broke his sword and nothing else but the handle remained whereat he stared out of wide open eyes not willing to believe what he saw.

Jack feared he might faint when the other lunged at him and clutched his throat with both hands. He gasped for air and tried desperately to free himself from the firm grip when another shot cracked. The iron grasp loosened and his antagonist hit the ground with a dull sound – a hole midst his brow.

Caithleen collapsed to her knees before she was able to crawl up the last steps to the helm. Her shoulder burnt and hurt and he once white shirt was soaked with blood. She already wanted to give in when she noticed Batiste who crept up into the rig and tore his second pistol from his belt.

She felt for her sword until she remembered that she lost it and even that one single shot from her pistol did already find its aim. She knew it would be too late until she would have been able to load her pistol again. There was only one thing she could do...

"Sparrow!"

It was as if time stood still, when Jack heard the yell! He turned round, heard the shot and saw the shadow throwing itself between him and the bullet.

"No! Caith! Don't!"

Within the same moment another broadside shattered the attacking vessel and the "Wing" broke free. The blow which hit the ship brought Jack down to his knees again and Henry Batiste got tossed out of the rig into the sea.

When he finally managed to pick himself up Jack realized that he was covered with blood – but since he wasn't hurt it wasn't his own, but...

"Caithleen! Love! For the world, answer me!"

He stumbled over to her barely able to walk and fell down to his knees again as soon as he reached her. She did not move when he turned her round. There were two wounds – one bullet got through her shoulder, the other got stuck within her body. Rapidly he grasped for his bandana and pressed it to the wound. Her hand closed round his but the same moment Caithleen fainted anew.

"Mister Jacobsen!"

"Aye, Captain!" The face of the older man appeared. His hair and beard singed, his clothes torn but fortunately being still alive.

"Take the helm, mate! Set full canvas and bring us out of here! Take care for the wounded and the dead and set course towards the next port!"

"That will be Marseille, Jack! But I fear – taking the condition of the ship into consideration – we'll need about two days!"

"As fast as possible! We're in need for a doctor! Our surgeon got caught by the devil!"

"But Captain..."

"No ifs and buts, mate! Set sail for Marseille!"


End file.
